It’s Friday morning and the sky in Portland is grey and cloudy. But it’s beautiful. Layers and layers of clouds dropping heavy drops of cleansing water on the city to wash the streets and quench the trees and saturate us who walk from corner to corner. Today I’m reminded of what it’s like to be covered. To be clean. To be quenched and saturated and washed.

It’s overwhelming to stare at the expansive sky and see nothing but grey, wet clouds blanketing the city for miles in each direction. Where does it begin? When does it end? Does it ever stop?

Last week I decided to start vlogging again when I received an email from a reader in Florida who asked if I could address when grace becomes stupidity. You know, like when we can figure out where it begins, when it ends, and does it ever stop.

I immediately started researching our approach to grace in America and sadly realized I have no understanding of true grace. Yes, true grace. The kind that stretches across like a blanket from one corner of a city to another. The counter-cultural grace that cleanses and quenches and saturates us in an unending love and enveloping forgiveness.

THAT is the grace I wanted to talk about. Not the grace in a book or one isolated scripture I learned in vacation bible school.

I want honest grace.
I want real grace.
I want true grace.
I want to see grace, not just hear about it.

That’s when I remembered the amazing crew of POTSC. People of the Second Chance fully live out the idea of grace what it means to have a second chance. My vlog pails in comparison to this story because describing rain without being enveloped in it is like sitting at my desk in California and trying to tell you what Portland rain feels like. Be enveloped by the cleansing, quenching, saturating picture of true grace.

This is Emmanuel’s story. This is his true story.

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