Fierce Grace: Why Free Doesn't Mean Passive

I'm excited to keep going in this series, because today I want to talk about something I'd call fierce grace — being aggressive about laying hold of what's already been freely given.

Free doesn't mean sit still — it means go take possession.

If you handed me a thousand acres of land and a thousand acres' worth of seed, I wouldn't sit there thanking you over and over while the seed sat in the bag. I'd be asking for help loading the truck, because I believed you when you said it was mine.

We don't do anything to earn what God has given us — that part is settled. But grace was never meant to make you passive. It was meant to make you fierce about laying hold of what's already yours.

Go borrow vessels, not a few.

“Then he said, ‘Go, borrow vessels from everywhere, from all your neighbors — empty vessels; do not gather just a few.’”

2 Kings 4:3 (NKJV)

A widow came to Elisha in desperate debt, and all she had was a small jar of oil. His instructions weren't passive — go borrow vessels, and don't be stingy about how many. Her prosperity that day was directly tied to how aggressive she was willing to be about gathering containers.

If that same instruction came to you today, would you knock on one neighbor's door, or would you load up a truck and go door to door until you'd found every vessel in town? The Kingdom of Heaven suffers violence, and the violent take it by force. That's not fighting God for something — that's refusing to let the devil hold onto what already belongs to you.

He makes Himself available. He won't make you take the help.

The disciples were stuck in a boat, fighting a contrary wind, when Jesus came walking toward them on the water. Notice something easy to miss — He appeared as though He would have passed right by them.

That's not a lack of love. He makes Himself available, but He won't force help on you. If you've decided you don't want His help, He's not going to override that decision. And if you actually want it, all it takes is asking, the way Peter did: "Lord, if it is You, command me to come to You on the water."

What does the wind have to do with walking on water?

Peter got out of the boat and walked on the water toward Jesus. The storm hadn't stopped. Jesus didn't calm the sea before Peter stepped out — the wind was still every bit as strong as it had been. Peter simply focused on the one word he'd been given: come.

Then Scripture says he saw that the wind was boisterous, and that's when fear came in and he began to sink. What does wind and rough water actually have to do with a man's ability to walk on top of it? Nothing.

He was staring at something that had zero bearing on his actual circumstance, and it consumed him anyway. As a fisherman, wind and rough seas meant something very real to him — a sinking boat. He let his past experience and his own understanding start dictating what Jesus was doing in that moment, and the cares of this world choked out the very Word that was holding him up.

Staring at Jesus doesn't guarantee you keep believing.

Peter was staring directly at Jesus and still let fear take over. That should tell you something — proximity to Jesus is not the same as fixed focus on His Word.

You might be sitting there thinking about your own situation right now — a diagnosis, a financial mess, an economy that looks uncertain. But ask yourself the same question Peter should have asked: what does that circumstance actually have to do with the promise you were given? Most of the time, the honest answer is nothing. It's not your problem that's disqualifying you — it's what you're staring at while you're standing on the water.

Fight To Win.