The Difference Between Grace & Mercy

Updated: Feb 14

Something cool and almost wet hit my arm and was quickly traveling down it…

I was probably twelve years old, spending a few days with my grandfather in his retirement apartment like I did for several summers (yes, this is the same grandfather who ultimately led me to make a decision for Christ – no pressure, grandparents!). I had decided I was going to make us pancakes for supper. So, just like they teach you in school, I looked up a recipe in one of his cookbooks and started cooking.

Step 1: Gather all your tools and ingredients. I don’t remember what I was trying to reach as I stood on the step stool. I’m guessing it was the flour or maybe cooking oil. But to get to it, I had to hold this silver can out of the way that had a Crisco can style thin plastic lid, and I didn’t realize I was tipping it while I was reaching…

Then, the something hit my arm, which made me tip the can even more when I jumped to look. When I realized what it was, it was already way too late. By this time it was all the way to the countertop and making its way down the front of the lower cupboards. It was honey. Sticky, gooey, thick, impossible to wipe up honey!

You have to understand, honey wasn’t just “honey for your biscuits” in this apartment. My grandfather used honey daily in a vinegar health drink/concoction. This honey was from a local farmer, not a grocery store. This honey was the real deal