No, God’s grace was not entirely abstract, but in that other, visceral sense, yes it was. You see, grace doesn’t really prevail until we run out of steam, and I hadn’t arrived at the place where I was out of aces. I had yet to truly thirst for grace like that psalmic deer panting for water. I had not come to the end of me, with nothing else to hold on to, no one and nowhere else to turn. I really had no idea.
