I have a Purple Clematis planted along a Wisteria trellis in my side yard. When I planted it, I wrapped its thin, fragile vines around the poles of the trellis. But each morning, I would come out to find the flowering vines in a tangled clump on the ground. Gently, I would separate the shoots and leaves and place each vine back on the trellis, tying the stems where they could reach. But still, in the morning, I would find the vines blown off, slid down, tangled together or upside down. Continually, I would tenderly unwrap, unwind, and secure each vine, building in more and more places to hold as I go.

I wonder if this is what Paul means when he says, “[God’s] kindness is meant to lead to repentance.” I imagine the father gently unwinding my heart and mind from all its tangled mess, saying; “I know this trellis doesn’t seem to fit your fragile form. Here child, wrap yourself here. Hold tight to my goodness in this place. Reach for that tether of grace, just above.”