Another Large, Flightless Bird
Throughout the first day, we were still excited whenever we saw more of the giraffes and zebras and oryx and kudus and elands and ostriches. But, by the end of the second day, they had become part of the scenery. There were just so many of them, and they were everywhere. It became a joke to us—"Oh, how exciting, another large, flightless bird," we'd say in a deadpan voice. "Oh, wonder of wonders, another striped pony-wannabe." What was once awe-inspiring had become mundane.
In the same way, certain words, over time, lose the power they once had—commitment, sacrifice, sin, morality. "Grace" has become one of these words. We sing by rote about God's "Amazing Grace"—letting fly by the remarkable truth of its being bestowed upon a "wretch like me" ("wretch"—another of those words that just doesn't communicate all it used to). When we see someone committed to a false religion or living a hedonistic lifestyle, we casually throw out a "There but by the grace of God go I" without stopping to ponder the depth of the reality of the statement.
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