Proactive Grace

Isaiah 65:24 -- "Before they call, I will answer; and while they are still speaking, I will hear."

The banging on the door woke me with a start and I reached it just as the phone started to ring incessantly. I looked at the clock. It was 1:00 am. A nervous peek down the hall told me that the noises hadn't startled my two year old awake and I breathed in a deep sigh of relief. Even in that repreive, however, I couldn't stop my hands from shaking.

I'd officially been a single mom for eight months. The tiny apartment in which I huddled against the locked door was the first one I'd ever called my very own. I had discovered independence, and a strength in myself that I never knew existed. I'm not so proud that I claim the strength all my own, I know now - as I knew then - that God has given me grace.

Countless grace.

In a voice that I hoped portrayed confidence and determination if not a little anger - I shouted through the door for the angry-fisted "guest" to announce himself - but I already knew who it was. He'd been stalking me for close to two weeks.

A fellow Sunday-school class mate - the twenty-something on the other side of the door was recently returned from Afghanistan and had, unfortunately been present in a convoy that was ambushed with high grade explosives.  He survived. But came home battling some pretty strong demons. Demons I could not fight. Demons that would not take no for an answer.

Through obviously clenched teeth, the boogie-man on the other side of the door spat out his name, and then an angry accusation that I already knew who it was. We argued from either side of the doorway for a few minutes - he, hoping to weaken my resolve - and me, knowing my fellow-single mother neighbor just across the hall had my back and was undoubtedly calling the police. I only had to buy time until they arrived.

I leaned with all of my body against the door - a comforting gesture to assure myself that it would not open if I didn't open it.  The boogie-man started banging on the door even louder. And while there was no peep-hole - I could picture his angry face and the weapon my neighbor later confirmed he had stashed in the waist band of his pants. Pretending calm, he explained that he'd left his sunglasses on my sofa - all he wanted to do was get them and then he'd leave.

Nothing doing - Id' fallen for that trick once before and I would NOT allow a repeat performance. In shaky, shallow breaths, I prayed. I prayed for intervention, I prayed for grace, I prayed for help.

Isaiah reminds us that God hears all our prayers. Even before we utter them, He hears the words. Before we even cry out - God moves for us, acting on words unspoken, unformed. He grants us proactive grace. Preemptive grace. Grace that has no end. Love that can never be shaken.

I could hear the sirens. The haunted former soldier stopped pounding on the door. The phone stopped ringing as he stopped yelling obscenities and looked down into the parking lot at the flashing blue and red lights. My neighbor called the police when I could not due to a busy telephone. God heard my cries before I uttered them. He kept my two year old and I safe inside that tiny apartment.

He granted an amazing grace. Just as He does countless times every single day - times of which we may not even be aware - as He answers unrendered words, unspoken cries for help. God is with us - even before we ask it of Him.