There once was a murderer on death row, who committed heinous crimes, each worse than the one before. 

He lied. He swindled. He burglarised. He assaulted. He kidnapped. He raped. He killed.   

The case against him was presented. He stood before the judge, face impassive, and straightened his back as the verdict was delivered - Guilty on all charges.  

Days melded into weeks, weeks turned into months, months segued into years. 

Soon, it was time, time for the reckoning.   

The noose around his neck is tightened. He warily adjusts his footing on the stool below him. The dark cloth over his face masks his vision, yet he shuts his eyes tight, finally fearing what is before him. The trembling in his hands resonated in the solemn room, the cuffs clinking against each other.  

The stool is suddenly removed. 

Caught unaware, he grapples. His feet kick violently as he struggles to draw in his next breath. His vision quickly becomes blurry from the lack of oxygen. Within seconds, he tethers on the brink of survival and death looms, unforgiving. 

A thousand thoughts flash before him. The faces of his victims, interspersed with the faces of the ones he loved. As he dangles on the hinge of here and hell, for a mere moment, remorse claws at his frigid heart.  

He feels the cold breath of death slipping in when suddenly, something is placed beneath him. 

Instinctively, he sets his feet on it and immediately, the suffocating grip around his neck loosens. The thick, rough length of the noose is no longer cutting into his throat. He sucks in a deep breath. The second his lungs expand to welcome the sweet air into his battered body, he lets out a choked cough. The hood is then lifted and his eyes blink repeatedly, the receptors in his retinas acclimatising to the sudden burst of light. 

A hand is extended to him. He looks over and reciprocates, steadying himself before getting off the wooden stool clumsily. 

"You are free to go", the guard murmurs, as he reluctantly uncuffs him. The very same man who strapped him into place earlier looks bewildered. When he stares at him quizzically, too stumped to move, the guard resentfully continues, "Someone else took your place."

He didn’t understand. What just happened? Was this all a joke? None of it made sense. 

A barrage of questions pummel through his subconscious. 

Why in the world would someone take his place? What sort of lunacy would drive a man to take another's place in the gallows? Did someone goad him to this? How on earth was this exchange possible? Was it because the man was doubly wicked, when compared to him?

Baffling? You bet. Unjust? Absolutely. Offensive? Kinda. 

Ready for another mind-blowing truth? Here it is: The undeserving murderer? That’s all of us. You and I. 

"That is some nerve you have", you must be thinking right now. "Who do you think you are, throwing such an outrageous accusation at me? I have done no such thing. I would never even think of killing someone!" 

Every despicable thought. Every selfish intention. Every lustful act. Every haughty curse. Every ill feeling. Every black, white, grey lie. Every theft committed. And, every life taken. There is no yard stick for sin. To a holy God, all of it are one and the same; affronts punishable by death.  

Grace doesn’t make sense. It isn’t supposed to. 

It is a pardon that should have never been given. 

It gives everything, yet asks nothing in return. 

It forgives the greatest of crimes, the worst of sinners, the vilest of humanity. 

It then bestows upon the most unworthy a clean slate, a new beginning, a second chance at life. 

Once any person understands what grace fully paid for, it never will be reduced as a license to sin. Because, to be relieved of what we were destined for, it is a price no man can bear. Yet, He could. He did. He will.   

Our lives were paid for by the blood of an innocent Man. 

On That Cross, He wasn't the epitome of grace, He was grace personified. 

He took our place and gave us His. 

He is grace. 

No wonder we call him Amazing Grace.