by Rhonda Rhea @RhondaRhea

I stood there looking at the car, shaking my head in utter disbelief. Disbelief and no small amount of judgment. That driver needed to be at least a little bit shamed. Pull the car in. Into the plainly marked spot. Put it between the two yellow lines. That’s all you had to do. It’s parking, not rocket science. How could anybody mess that up?

I should mention at this point that it was me. I was the driver who had messy-parked that car. I messy-parked it big. I never even noticed until I got back from shopping. Not only was the car practically on a sidewalk, but I had parked right on top of one of the yellow lines. Those bright, bright yellow lines. I was parking my little SUV-ette, not a Winnebago. What should’ve been a walk in the park came closer to a park on the walk. I might actually do better with rocket science.

Ordinarily I get every kind of bothered when my tires are even close to touching a line. I avoid those stripes like the yellow plague and I usually check to make sure there are no tire-on-line breeches. That day, I didn’t check. Though I might add here that neither tire was touching a yellow stripe. But it was because one of the lines was almost smack-dab center of my car. Like a field goal. How embarrassing.

There’s only one thing a person can do at that point, right? Jump in the car and speed off before anyone sees that you’re the one who parked it. I practically squealed those tires. My Equinox was suddenly the Batmobile. It’s true that instead of fighting crime, I was trying to lessen my parking disgrace. That makes it even more ironic that I forgot about the speed bump on that lot and pretty near concussed myself.

Isn’t it glorious that our Jesus has grace for every disgrace? He has compassion for every place we completely miss the mark. He has compassion as well for every affliction we encounter in this sin-cursed world. His is not the kind of compassion someone feels from afar. It’s a grace that comes near. One that’s personal. A grace that touches.

A man with the humiliating plague of leprosy came to Jesus and begged for healing. “Moved with compassion, Jesus reached out his hand and touched him. ‘I am willing,’ he told him. ‘Be made clean.’ Immediately the leprosy left him, and he was made clean” (Mark 1:41-42 CSB).

Oh, these words: “Jesus…touched him.” He touched him! Touched this unclean person. The man was breaking ceremonial law to even be there. He wasn’t supposed to come near anyone at all, much less a crowd. But instead of doling out judgment and shame, our Savior was “moved with compassion.” Moved to ignore the law that would keep the leper at a distance. Moved to ignore the law that forbade Jesus to touch him.

It’s that same compassion that brought Jesus near to the whole world. We were all defiled, unclean, humiliated—we had all missed the mark. Our perfect Savior touched sin on our behalf, taking it upon Himself, becoming our defilement, so we could be made clean—soul clean—and have a wondrous relationship with a holy God.

I’m going to park right here and think about that today. In His limitless compassion, He comes near. He touches. Grace for every disgrace. Grace that, I dare say, redraws the lines.

Rhonda Rhea is an award-winning humor columnist for great magazines such as HomeLife, Leading Hearts, The Pathway, and many more. She is the author of 19 books, including the popular romantic comedies co-authored with her daughter Kaley Rhea, Off-Script & Over-Caffeinated and Turtles in the Road. Rhonda and Kaley have also teamed up with Bridges TV host Monica Schmelter for the Messy to Meaningful books and TV projects. Along with Beth Duewel, Rhonda writes the Fix Her Upper series, and she also co-authored Unruffled: Thriving in Chaos with Edie Melson. She speaks at conferences and events from coast to coast, serves on many boards and committees, and stays busy as a publishing consultant. Rhonda says you can find her living near St. Louis drinking too much coffee and snort-laughing with her pastor/husband, five grown children, and a growing collection of the most exceptional grandbabies.