Some thirty-two years ago, while attending college, a professor upon hearing of my decision to go to Japan as a missionary told me that I would be wasting my life, squandering what I had to give to the world on a meaningless pursuit. But what my professor had no way of knowing is that my life had already been wasted—wasted by my own choices, wasted by my own rebellion, wasted by my inability to choose the right course or the right life. I was left by my own actions lying in a hospital unable to speak, not expected to live, unable to return to work or school, unable to pay my rent, nor utilities, nor the growing debt of unpaid hospital bills.

Then came grace, sheer grace, wastefully extravagant grace—all gift—given freely by the one who had fashioned me while yet in my mother's womb. Grace—the unmerited, underserved, kind, and generous power and action of a loving God to forgive, save, and transform forever broken and sinful lives—found me. And so, I've wasted these last thirty-two years on the wasteful, extravagant grace of Jesus.

Oh, to let you know of His kind and tender heart! Oh, to let you know that He is unswervingly and altogether for you! Oh, to tell you that when you place your life in His wounded hands, nothing in the universe can separate you from His love! Oh, to let you know that He forgave you all of your sins at the cross! Oh, to tell you that you are the joy set before Him for which He endured the cross. Oh, that you would come to know his kind and gracious Spirit, a teacher humble and lowly in heart, a most faithful friend who will never leave you! Oh, that you would come under the yoke of His grace, a burden easy and light! Oh, that you would come to live a life wasted in the wake of His grace!