I’ve heard Amazing Grace more times than I can count.
Sung slow with a piano that’s seen better days.
Belted out loud with a full choir and no shame.
Whispered at gravesides.
Hummed by saints who didn’t have much breath left but had plenty of hope.
An old dog like me notices things like that.
The song starts where all honest stories start:
“Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.”
No polishing.
No pretending.
Just the truth.
Paul would nod at that line.
He called himself the chief of sinners, and then turned right around and said, “But by the grace of God I am what I am” - 1 Corinthians 15:10.
Grace doesn’t deny the mess.
It meets it.
Grace doesn’t excuse the sin.
It rescues the sinner.
I know something about being a wretch.
I’ve wandered.
I’ve chased things that didn’t love me back.
I’ve laid in the dirt when I should’ve stayed near my human’s feet.
Isaiah had my number long before I was born:
“All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned—every one—to his own way” - Isaiah 53:6.
And still… grace came looking.
“I once was lost, but now am found; was blind, but now I see.”
That’s Luke 15 grace.
The shepherd leaving the ninety-nine to go find the one that wandered off and got itself stuck.
That’s Jesus saying, “The Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost” - Luke 19:10.
That’s light breaking through cataracts we didn’t even know we had.
Amazing Grace doesn’t say we figured it out.
It says we were found.
“Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved.”
Grace has a funny way of doing that—teaching us to fear the right things and let go of the wrong ones.
Proverbs says, “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom”
- Proverbs 9:10
Not the fear that makes you hide, but the fear that makes you bow.
And once you bow, grace lifts your head and reminds you:
“There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus”
- Romans 8:1.
Fear taught.
Fear relieved.
Same grace.
And then there’s that line I always pause on:
“Through many dangers, toils, and snares, I have already come.”
That’s not theory.
That’s testimony.
Jesus promised we’d have trouble in this world—but He also promised He’d overcome it (John 16:33).
Grace doesn’t airlift us out of every hard thing.
It walks us through them.
Slowly.
Faithfully.
Sometimes limping, but never alone.
“Twas grace that brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home.”
That’s Philippians 1:6 confidence.
“He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion.”
Grace didn’t just start this journey.
Grace finishes it.
So I lay here on the porch, tail thumping softly, heart full.
I may still be an old dog with worn paws and a few bad habits, but I know this much:
Grace found me
Grace keeps me
Grace will carry me all the way home.
And that really is… amazing.
Keep the Faith… Carpe Diem
