In the forgiving Word of God the incomprehensible greatness of God, the intolerable glory of His Godhead, the glory of His grace, has appeared, has appeared to eyes that cannot comprehend it even as they gaze upon it. It has been manifested to hearts that stand in trembling awe of it even as they believe in it. This grace of which the psalmist sings is no cheap, easy grace, no easy commodity which complacency can casually appropriate. We can be sure of it, surer of it than of ourselves, than of our own righteousness or our sins or our life or our death. But we cannot be complacent about it. Our souls still wait for the Lord, more than watchmen that wait for the morning. They know the morning will come; they are sure that it will come, and yet they wait for it, and they hail its first graying as a new and wondrous thing. So we wait for the Lord and know that He is Lord and will forgive. But forgiveness remains the perpetual miracle still. God as Forgiver is the object of our fear.
--Martin Franzmann, "Fear Born of Forgiveness," Ha! Ha! Among the Trumpets.