I’m amazed that I haven’t written this one before now. Actually, if truth be known, I thought I had, but searching through it looks like I haven’t.

A few quotations to start with:

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That sav’d a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.

     Amazing Grace, John Newton

“Grace…
It’s a name for a girl
It’s also a thought that, changed the world”

     Grace, U2

“Grace is given to heal the spiritually sick, not to decorate spiritual heroes”

     Martin Luther

“God, give us grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be changed, courage to change the things that should be changed, and the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other.”

     The Serenity Prayer, Reinhold Niebuhr

“a. the freely given, unmerited favour and love of God.

     Dictionary.com

For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.

     John 1:17

There are a myriad of books too – “What’s so Amazing about grace?“, “Amazing Grace“, “God’s Lavish Grace“, “The Grace Awakening“. Search Amazon and there are over 3,000 books in the “Religion and Spirituality” section.

I could go on – but I won’t. I just wanted to make the point that Grace is huge.

In many ways Grace is a meta-blessing, it’s beyond a blessing, it’s above a blessing. Many of the blessing that I talk about are only possible because of Grace. It is “the freely given, unmerited favour and love of God”, I receive from God favour and love that I have not merited, I have not earned and I do not deserve.

I don’t really write these posts to try and debate huge philosophical issues, I try to write from personal experience. I know that I can’t stand before God and say – “give me this because I deserve it!” – I don’t deserve it, any of it. I don’t have to look far into my life to realise that I deserve God’s contempt, but He doesn’t treat me with contempt, He treats me with love and favour.

As I look back through the previous “blessings” that I have written so many of them stories of Grace.

The fresh life that I experience comes as a gift of Grace.

Special messages from loved ones are a gift of Grace.

When I realise that things aren’t as bad as they first seemed it’s a gift of Grace.

I look around me and see all sorts of things that I don’t deserve, I am so privileged – what more can I say. I’ll leave you with some words that are thousands of years old, but just as relevant today:

May God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ give you grace and peace.

1 Corinthians 1:3

One day last week I decided to take some time off. I’ve been doing a lot of travelling and working long hours for a couple of months now. Weekends have been busy too. It was time for a break.

I’d normally aline an impromptu day off with Sue’s day off, but that wouldn’t have been possible for a few more weeks.

It was a lovely day, the sun was shining, and there was a cooling gentle breeze. I packed some lunch, my camera, my iPod, a book of walks, some pencils and a sketch pad then headed off to a small village nearby called Hurst Green. Hurst Green is the home of Stonyhurst College. John Tolkien, son of J.R.R. Tolkien went to school there. It was arguably one of the places that inspired the scenery of Middle Earth in the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

It’s certainly a beautiful idyllic place.

The map book had a new walk for me to try out, I’ve done a couple of walks from Hurst Green before, so I was excited at the prospect of seeing some new sites.

The walk set off down a lane through some woods beside a small brook. The dappled light created by the sunlight shining through the leaves of the trees was lovely.

The walk took me up a hill and then down towards the river Ribble eventually reaching the Dinkley pedestrian suspension bridge. There used to be a ferry that crossed the river at this point apparently, but now it looks a bit out of place sat in a valley not really going from anywhere to anywhere.

It was time for lunch, and time to get the pencils out.

The water levels were low and I could sit on a rock practically in the middle of the river, looking up at the bridge. The harsh straight lines contrasted wonderfully with the more subtle soft shapes of the trees. There were a couple of fluffy white clouds in the sky lighting up the iridescent blue sky. It was a scene that demanded to be sketched.

The pencil moved across the paper drawing me into the scene before me. As my eyes switched from scene to paper and back again I noticed the different trees that lined the river and the tall grass away in the distance. I noticed the flow of the water as it ambled along.

I have no idea why I don’t sketch more, the creative act makes me feel alive.

Perhaps that points to one reason why I don’t. I tend to save sketching for the times when I have the time to enjoy it. I don’t actually want to sit down and bash something out, I want to enjoy the process.

My sketching isn’t high art, but that’s not why I do it. I don’t want to spend my time asking the question “It’s pretty, but is it Art?” as the Devil whispered in Rudyard Kipling’s poem “The Conundrum of the Workshops“:

When the flush of a new-born sun fell first on Eden’s green and gold,
Our father Adam sat under the Tree and scratched with a stick in the mould;
And the first rude sketch that the world had seen was joy to his mighty heart,
Till the Devil whispered behind the leaves, “It’s pretty, but is it Art ?”

I’m not being artistic, I’m being creative.

Creativity is something that seems to be drummed out of adults, as I’ve said before. It does me all sorts of good to spend some time creating something and it saddens me that life leaves so little time to do it.

Few people are likely to see my sketches, and I’m not doing it to pass an exam, I’m just being creative.

My sketches aren’t going to an expedition, and I’m not trying to win approval, I’m just being creative.

Reading through the Bible I see a God who was and is massively creative. But God also seems that value the creativity of man.

Last week I was near Washington D.C. on business. Unlike many business trips we actually had some time see a couple of sites.

On one trip we went up into Washington D.C. and went around the sites including Capitol Hill, the Washington Monument, and the Lincoln Memorial from where Martin Luther King Jnr. gave his famous “I have a dream” speech. One of the steps up to the memorial is marked with an inscription marking the event. Standing on the step looking out I got a new sense of the historic events that took place – on that very spot.

At the end of the trip we had a couple of hours spare which we used to visit the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum Udvar-Hazy Center. In the middle of the museum sits the B-29 Superfortress bomber Enola Gay.  This is the aircraft that dropped the first atomic bomb on Hiroshima just before the end of World War II. Standing in front of this hulk of polished metal I tried to imagine how it must have felt inside the cockpit on that day. What did they talk about on the way out? What did they talk about on the way back? How did they feel about their role in the events of 6th August 1945 as they lived the rest of their lives?

On Saturday, after my return, I went to a friend’s wedding. This was the wedding of someone who had been part of the church youth work years ago when Sue and I were involved. It was a historic event especially for the bride and the groom.

Each of these events resonate through time. Each of these events have changed the world in which I live. Each of these events will continue to change the world in which I live. Some in relatively minor ways, for me, others in more significant ways. They are all part of my history.

Few people would doubt that Jesus was a historic figure. H.G. Wells once said this:

“I am an historian, I am not a believer, but I must confess as a historian that this penniless preacher from Nazareth is irrevocably the very centre of history. Jesus Christ is easily the most dominant figure in all history.”

His history continues to resonate and continues to influence. His history continues to be a part of my history too.

(Unfortunately, I didn’t take my camera with me on my trip, so a picture from my garden will have to be a more than adequate substitute.)