I'd long said that the day I found a cockroach in my bed, I would throw in the towel for good. Of course, it would have to happen on the kind of day where everything was already going wrong.
By the time I got home, it was late and I was more than ready to call it a day. I pulled back the sheets to climb into bed, and there, next to my pillow...was a cockroach. That's it! I declared, sitting down on the floor. I'm done with this place. I'm so done with this place.
I didn't want to get in bed, didn't want to turn out the light, didn't want to close my eyes. But more than just physically and emotionally exhausted (and I'll admit it, borderline irrational), I felt spiritually vulnerable. Incredibly so. I'd heard other missionaries talk about this - a greater sense of spiritual darkness than what we are often used to in the West.
It's not like I thought the cockroach in my bed was some sort of evil spirit; it was nothing more than a cockroach. Vile and disgusting, granted, but only a cockroach. Satan, however, was taking advantage of my already discouraged state and tempting me further down his dark path.
I felt almost helpless against it. So I did the only thing I could think of: I went to get my Bible. I sprawled out on my stomach and flipped through pages until I found underlined favorites. I read them slowly, drinking in the comfort they offered.
The Lord of hosts is with us, the God of Jacob is our refuge. - Psalm 46:7
But the salvation of the righteous is from the Lord; He is their strength in the time of trouble. And the Lord shall help them and deliver them; He shall deliver them from the wicked and save them, because they trust in Him. - Psalm 37:39-40
I will both lie down in peace, and sleep; for You alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety. - Psalm 4:8
So I laid my head down, knowing that my Heavenly Father was right there with me, knowing His grace would allow me to sleep that night.
His grace is always a refuge, a resting place.
Friday, October 31, 2014
Thursday, October 30, 2014
Celebration: {Day 30} Becoming
Here in West Africa, we talk a lot about becoming. (Actually, I think we talk about it a lot as a Mission.)
"Becoming relevant and useful instruments in a new context" - that's kind of our motto. Which is great and all, but that's not really what I want to get into right now.
You see, before becoming relevant and useful we basically have to become...nothing. For many of us, it's one of the most excruciatingly painful and humbling things we've experienced.
And yet, this becoming nothing process gives me the opportunity to depend on God in ways I might not have had to before. It allows me to see Him work in ways I might not otherwise see. So it's a gift. It's grace.
Honestly, though, I hesitated to write this post, because in calling becoming nothing a gift, there's a danger. You might come away with the impression that I've totally embraced all the difficulties, that I've bravely accepted all the struggles 'cause I know they're from the Lord.
Not true.
Some days I do. Some days I push it all away, wanting some other more attractively wrapped gift.
But He doesn't change. He never stops giving, never stops loving, never stops doing the good work He began in my life.
And I love Him for it.
"Becoming relevant and useful instruments in a new context" - that's kind of our motto. Which is great and all, but that's not really what I want to get into right now.
You see, before becoming relevant and useful we basically have to become...nothing. For many of us, it's one of the most excruciatingly painful and humbling things we've experienced.
And yet, this becoming nothing process gives me the opportunity to depend on God in ways I might not have had to before. It allows me to see Him work in ways I might not otherwise see. So it's a gift. It's grace.
Honestly, though, I hesitated to write this post, because in calling becoming nothing a gift, there's a danger. You might come away with the impression that I've totally embraced all the difficulties, that I've bravely accepted all the struggles 'cause I know they're from the Lord.
Not true.
Some days I do. Some days I push it all away, wanting some other more attractively wrapped gift.
But He doesn't change. He never stops giving, never stops loving, never stops doing the good work He began in my life.
And I love Him for it.
Wednesday, October 29, 2014
Celebration: {Day 29} Memory Lane
I stumbled across this article today and it got me thinking about yet another grace-gift: my childhood.
Now, I don't want to paint some idyllic picture in all rosy shades.
We were far from a perfect family. My sisters and I disobeyed (rather frequently, I might add), we broke things, we called each other names, we got skinned knees. My parents made their own mistakes.
But here's the thing: I knew without a doubt that my parents loved us and each other. Not every child has the privilege of growing up with the stability that knowledge brings, and I don't ever want to take it for granted.
And when I think back on those years, I remember a lot less of the bad stuff and a lot more of the good stuff.
I remember standing on chairs behind the kitchen counter to watch Mom cook (we called them "cooking shows"). Snuggling up under blankets with hot chocolate and buttered popcorn. Mom or Dad reading books out loud. Riding our bikes in the backyard for hours on Saturday. Dressing up and pretending we were pilgrims or pioneers. Sitting out in the garage and watching Dad work his magic on wood.
I think of how Mom did her best to nurture our God-given curiosity, or how Dad worked hard to provide for our family. We didn't get everything we asked for, but we had all that we needed (and more). We were given chores and responsibility, yet we still had time and freedom to play - to be children.
Most importantly, Mom and Dad wanted us to truly know God, the One who is so much bigger than all of our human imperfections.
These are gifts. Again, not every child enjoys these things, and I'm no more deserving than anyone else. It's all grace.
To use a line from Monday's post -
He is good. And I am grateful.
Now, I don't want to paint some idyllic picture in all rosy shades.
We were far from a perfect family. My sisters and I disobeyed (rather frequently, I might add), we broke things, we called each other names, we got skinned knees. My parents made their own mistakes.
But here's the thing: I knew without a doubt that my parents loved us and each other. Not every child has the privilege of growing up with the stability that knowledge brings, and I don't ever want to take it for granted.
And when I think back on those years, I remember a lot less of the bad stuff and a lot more of the good stuff.
I remember standing on chairs behind the kitchen counter to watch Mom cook (we called them "cooking shows"). Snuggling up under blankets with hot chocolate and buttered popcorn. Mom or Dad reading books out loud. Riding our bikes in the backyard for hours on Saturday. Dressing up and pretending we were pilgrims or pioneers. Sitting out in the garage and watching Dad work his magic on wood.
I think of how Mom did her best to nurture our God-given curiosity, or how Dad worked hard to provide for our family. We didn't get everything we asked for, but we had all that we needed (and more). We were given chores and responsibility, yet we still had time and freedom to play - to be children.
Most importantly, Mom and Dad wanted us to truly know God, the One who is so much bigger than all of our human imperfections.
These are gifts. Again, not every child enjoys these things, and I'm no more deserving than anyone else. It's all grace.
To use a line from Monday's post -
He is good. And I am grateful.
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
Celebration: {Day 28} Acceptance
Another grace-gift -
I am fully accepted in Christ.
On a surface level, I gave mental assent to the fact that yeah, God accepts me entirely because of what Christ did on the cross and I'm saved through that.
But it didn't sink in all that much. I didn't let the reality of God's acceptance change my thinking (and my living) deeply.
I still lived as though I needed to earn God's acceptance, or work to keep it. I've already told you how exhausting that was.
But I also worked hard for the acceptance of others. Not in a trying-to-fit-in-with-the-cool-kids sort of way, but in another dangerously subtle way: I did lots of stuff. Good stuff. Helpful stuff. Serving stuff. Responsible stuff. The more of this "stuff" I did, the better, I thought. And if someone wasn't quite satisfied? Well, I'd do more. Try harder. Aim higher. It was like being held prisoner behind the iron bars of people's expectations.
Doesn't sound like grace factors into that scenario much, does it?
Honestly, this is something I still really struggle with. Less, I think, with trying to earn God's smile and more with keeping people happy. Happy with me. Happy with what I'm doing.
I justify it (subconsciously, most of the time) with things like, "I just want to be a good testimony/example." The reality twisted through that seemingly innocent statement is that I want you to see me as "good". At the root of that tangled mess is proud unbelief.
It's about how I look and not about others getting to know God. Pride.
It's about me not really resting in this acceptance that God gives. Unbelief.
Ick.
So what if I received this grace-gift with both hands? What if I really believed that my Heavenly Father already fully, unconditionally, and forever accepts me, and that was all that truly matters?
If I live from this reality, I'll let His grace pour into me and then spill over into everything I do. I'll stop doing because of people and start living because of Jesus.
I am fully accepted in Christ.
On a surface level, I gave mental assent to the fact that yeah, God accepts me entirely because of what Christ did on the cross and I'm saved through that.
But it didn't sink in all that much. I didn't let the reality of God's acceptance change my thinking (and my living) deeply.
I still lived as though I needed to earn God's acceptance, or work to keep it. I've already told you how exhausting that was.
But I also worked hard for the acceptance of others. Not in a trying-to-fit-in-with-the-cool-kids sort of way, but in another dangerously subtle way: I did lots of stuff. Good stuff. Helpful stuff. Serving stuff. Responsible stuff. The more of this "stuff" I did, the better, I thought. And if someone wasn't quite satisfied? Well, I'd do more. Try harder. Aim higher. It was like being held prisoner behind the iron bars of people's expectations.
Doesn't sound like grace factors into that scenario much, does it?
Honestly, this is something I still really struggle with. Less, I think, with trying to earn God's smile and more with keeping people happy. Happy with me. Happy with what I'm doing.
I justify it (subconsciously, most of the time) with things like, "I just want to be a good testimony/example." The reality twisted through that seemingly innocent statement is that I want you to see me as "good". At the root of that tangled mess is proud unbelief.
It's about how I look and not about others getting to know God. Pride.
It's about me not really resting in this acceptance that God gives. Unbelief.
Ick.
So what if I received this grace-gift with both hands? What if I really believed that my Heavenly Father already fully, unconditionally, and forever accepts me, and that was all that truly matters?
If I live from this reality, I'll let His grace pour into me and then spill over into everything I do. I'll stop doing because of people and start living because of Jesus.
Monday, October 27, 2014
Celebration: {Day 27} Walking Partners
I don't mind walking alone, but it's nice to have a good friend along for the company. There's safety, motivation, and accountability in having a walking partner. In the same way, it's good to have company for our Christian life, our walk of faith.
And for that walk, I have some pretty cool partners.
They make me laugh. They make me think. They listen to my struggles, hopes, and fears - and share their own.
When I start lagging, they encourage me, pointing out the finish line 'way out there on the horizon. When I get distracted, they remind me to keep to the trail. If I limp, they're there to tuck an arm under mine and help me on.
Just like people taking a hike together talk about the scenery around them (because they're both on the same trail), my walking-in-faith partners and I can talk about the scenery around us. We can process the realities of the journey we share, and what God is showing us along the way.
God could have turned us all lose to forge trails on our own, but He didn't. I'm glad that in His plan, He designed us to need companionship. And each stick-by-my-side walking partner is a grace-gift from Him.
It's easy to take these gifts for granted. But this evening, I'm pausing to reflect on His grace in bringing certain people into my life. He is good. And I am grateful.
And for that walk, I have some pretty cool partners.
They make me laugh. They make me think. They listen to my struggles, hopes, and fears - and share their own.
When I start lagging, they encourage me, pointing out the finish line 'way out there on the horizon. When I get distracted, they remind me to keep to the trail. If I limp, they're there to tuck an arm under mine and help me on.
Just like people taking a hike together talk about the scenery around them (because they're both on the same trail), my walking-in-faith partners and I can talk about the scenery around us. We can process the realities of the journey we share, and what God is showing us along the way.
God could have turned us all lose to forge trails on our own, but He didn't. I'm glad that in His plan, He designed us to need companionship. And each stick-by-my-side walking partner is a grace-gift from Him.
It's easy to take these gifts for granted. But this evening, I'm pausing to reflect on His grace in bringing certain people into my life. He is good. And I am grateful.
Sunday, October 26, 2014
Celebration: {Day 26} Bob's Story
Sometimes we lose sight of grace or perhaps even deliberately ignore it. We might find ourselves farther from God than we thought possible. But every prodigal has the opportunity to go back...and every time the Father is waiting with a whole-hearted welcome. Bob shares his thoughts on coming home to grace.
- - -
When reading the story of the prodigal son I wonder if the son asked, "How in the world did I get here?" I think it's a legitimate question as the Scripture says "he came to his senses" (Luke 15:17). From that point on the son begins to have a better sense of where he needed to be and what he needed to do...go home to his father. The son travels home with a repentant heart and is received back in his father's arms of grace.
This is a story of what I call "grace sense" and I love it! In my own journey I was like the son who walked away, losing my sense of directional grace and lived a wasteful prodigal life for two years filled with sin.
One day by the grace of God I came to my senses. My grace sense was awakened and I asked myself, "How in the world did I get here?" It was grace that led me home. Grace greater than all my sin welcomed me back into my Heavenly Father's arms.
I'm growing in my "grace sense" as on the days when the guilt of my sin raises its ugly head, my Father whispers in my heart to look at the robe, ring, and shoes of His grace. Once again my "grace sense" is awakened to remember I am forgiven.
But by the grace of God I am what I am (1 Corinthians 15:10).
Bob A.
- - -
When reading the story of the prodigal son I wonder if the son asked, "How in the world did I get here?" I think it's a legitimate question as the Scripture says "he came to his senses" (Luke 15:17). From that point on the son begins to have a better sense of where he needed to be and what he needed to do...go home to his father. The son travels home with a repentant heart and is received back in his father's arms of grace.
This is a story of what I call "grace sense" and I love it! In my own journey I was like the son who walked away, losing my sense of directional grace and lived a wasteful prodigal life for two years filled with sin.
One day by the grace of God I came to my senses. My grace sense was awakened and I asked myself, "How in the world did I get here?" It was grace that led me home. Grace greater than all my sin welcomed me back into my Heavenly Father's arms.
I'm growing in my "grace sense" as on the days when the guilt of my sin raises its ugly head, my Father whispers in my heart to look at the robe, ring, and shoes of His grace. Once again my "grace sense" is awakened to remember I am forgiven.
But by the grace of God I am what I am (1 Corinthians 15:10).
Bob A.
Saturday, October 25, 2014
Celebration: {Day 25} Left Raw
I've talked a lot about grace breaking through my Pharisee façade.
It had been both a mask and a cast - keeping others from seeing my true face, and keeping me all bound up and hobbling along. To be rid of it was to experience a freedom that I'd never really known before. It was like breathing in deep gulps of air. It was like running free through fields stretched out beneath sunny, open skies. It was wonderful.
But there was another side to this new reality, a much less sunny side.
When you shatter a years-old protective shell, you expose layers that haven't been exposed before. You no longer have the mask to hide behind. You're left open, raw.
And so it was for me.
Since I was little, I'd pictured myself as the next Amy Carmichael, the next Gladys Alward, the next Ida Schudder. I was sure of my calling, sure of myself, sure that I was going to serve God in wonderful ways. But then grace came along, changing, well...everything. And when I landed in Africa at 22, I was quite unprepared for the struggles that I'd experience. Things that, to paraphrase a fellow missionary, would make any church-goer question my walk with the Lord.
I'm not talking about culture shock, like everything-is-so-different-and-overwhelming-and-I-stick-out-like-a-sore-thumb-and-I-don't-know-if-I'm-gonna-make-it-here-and-some-days-I-flat-out-hate-it. That's normal. Far from comfortable or fun, but normal.
I'm talking about seriously asking myself if this was indeed my calling. If God really wanted me to serve Him as a missionary in Africa - or as a missionary at all! (Side note: I'm not claiming to be the only one who's ever experienced this. I'm simply distinguishing it from culture shock/stress, which I expected.)
I couldn't help but think, If I had come here three years ago, I honestly wouldn't be having these struggles!
I would have had it all together. I would have blithely repeated Christian clichés when things got tough. If that didn't work, I would have given myself firm talkings-to and mechanically quoted Bible verses. (Because Christians are supposed to quote verses, right?)
But the stock of clichés was gone. I searched high and low for some vestige, some semblance of protection to wrap around me, but it was fruitless. I knew I didn't have it all together. Grace had peeled away the old layers and left me...raw. Stripped of who I thought I was and who I had tried to be.
God's timing may be painful, but it is always purposeful. I have no doubt that He took the mask away when He did so that when I got here, I would be conscious of these struggles...and so that my heart would be open and workable.
Do I enjoy these struggles? No. Of course not. Would I have asked for them? No. But I know He doesn't make mistakes. He's working. He's got a plan.
And look, I'm not saying all this because I've got this stuff resolved. I'm simply sharing reality because this is all part of His grace.
All part of His grace.
It had been both a mask and a cast - keeping others from seeing my true face, and keeping me all bound up and hobbling along. To be rid of it was to experience a freedom that I'd never really known before. It was like breathing in deep gulps of air. It was like running free through fields stretched out beneath sunny, open skies. It was wonderful.
But there was another side to this new reality, a much less sunny side.
When you shatter a years-old protective shell, you expose layers that haven't been exposed before. You no longer have the mask to hide behind. You're left open, raw.
And so it was for me.
Since I was little, I'd pictured myself as the next Amy Carmichael, the next Gladys Alward, the next Ida Schudder. I was sure of my calling, sure of myself, sure that I was going to serve God in wonderful ways. But then grace came along, changing, well...everything. And when I landed in Africa at 22, I was quite unprepared for the struggles that I'd experience. Things that, to paraphrase a fellow missionary, would make any church-goer question my walk with the Lord.
I'm not talking about culture shock, like everything-is-so-different-and-overwhelming-and-I-stick-out-like-a-sore-thumb-and-I-don't-know-if-I'm-gonna-make-it-here-and-some-days-I-flat-out-hate-it. That's normal. Far from comfortable or fun, but normal.
I'm talking about seriously asking myself if this was indeed my calling. If God really wanted me to serve Him as a missionary in Africa - or as a missionary at all! (Side note: I'm not claiming to be the only one who's ever experienced this. I'm simply distinguishing it from culture shock/stress, which I expected.)
I couldn't help but think, If I had come here three years ago, I honestly wouldn't be having these struggles!
I would have had it all together. I would have blithely repeated Christian clichés when things got tough. If that didn't work, I would have given myself firm talkings-to and mechanically quoted Bible verses. (Because Christians are supposed to quote verses, right?)
But the stock of clichés was gone. I searched high and low for some vestige, some semblance of protection to wrap around me, but it was fruitless. I knew I didn't have it all together. Grace had peeled away the old layers and left me...raw. Stripped of who I thought I was and who I had tried to be.
God's timing may be painful, but it is always purposeful. I have no doubt that He took the mask away when He did so that when I got here, I would be conscious of these struggles...and so that my heart would be open and workable.
Do I enjoy these struggles? No. Of course not. Would I have asked for them? No. But I know He doesn't make mistakes. He's working. He's got a plan.
And look, I'm not saying all this because I've got this stuff resolved. I'm simply sharing reality because this is all part of His grace.
All part of His grace.
Friday, October 24, 2014
Celebration: {Day 24} Who's the Hero?
It was MTC, third semester. An unwelcome visitor showed up: migraines.
I was used to being healthy and energetic - more or less. I said no to things because I was busy, rarely because I "didn't feel well". I did what needed to be done...and maybe then some.
But now it was different.
Getting homework done became a struggle (staring at a computer screen and thinking is one of the last things you feel like doing with a migraine!). There were nights with precious little sleep. Productivity took a nose-dive.
With every week that passed, it became more and more glaringly obvious that Rachel was not Superwoman. Not even close. And for that matter, she never would be Superwoman.
My cape of supposed adequacy was tattered and threadbare.
Enter grace.
I resisted it at first (like I had in many other areas of my life up to that point). I'd found such confidence in my own abilities: my own strength, my own energy, my own time management skills. The whole taking-one-day-at-a-time-in-dependence-on-someone-else was not in all honesty something I would have signed up for.
I liked being my own hero.
But I started to realize what a pathetic hero I was. No hero at all, really.
I needed someone strong. Someone big. Someone who didn't get tired, didn't run out, and didn't have limits.
And there He was.
The God of daily grace. The God of comfort, of rest, of quiet strength. The God who was always there and always enough.
He's the true Hero, the One who rescues undeserving wanna-be-heroes like me.
I was used to being healthy and energetic - more or less. I said no to things because I was busy, rarely because I "didn't feel well". I did what needed to be done...and maybe then some.
But now it was different.
Getting homework done became a struggle (staring at a computer screen and thinking is one of the last things you feel like doing with a migraine!). There were nights with precious little sleep. Productivity took a nose-dive.
With every week that passed, it became more and more glaringly obvious that Rachel was not Superwoman. Not even close. And for that matter, she never would be Superwoman.
My cape of supposed adequacy was tattered and threadbare.
Enter grace.
I resisted it at first (like I had in many other areas of my life up to that point). I'd found such confidence in my own abilities: my own strength, my own energy, my own time management skills. The whole taking-one-day-at-a-time-in-dependence-on-someone-else was not in all honesty something I would have signed up for.
I liked being my own hero.
But I started to realize what a pathetic hero I was. No hero at all, really.
I needed someone strong. Someone big. Someone who didn't get tired, didn't run out, and didn't have limits.
And there He was.
The God of daily grace. The God of comfort, of rest, of quiet strength. The God who was always there and always enough.
He's the true Hero, the One who rescues undeserving wanna-be-heroes like me.
Thursday, October 23, 2014
Celebration: {Day 23} Joyce's Story
Some of us have dramatic encounters with grace, the kind that make you want to clap and jump up from your chair when you hear them. Some of our grace stories are very un-dramatic - but that makes them no less real or precious. Grace is always, always amazing!
- - -
Joyce, you've alluded to some similarities in our stories, and I wondered if you'd be willing to share more.
About grace, what I have learned...
Big question, Rachel, big indeed.
At times I feel so unworthy to even mention the word, but grace...
I am not really qualified to share, but grace...
My memory escapes me, but grace...
I have messed up too many times, but grace...
How can someone so proud even talk about it? But grace...
I have fallen off my pedestal too many times, too bruised up, but grace...
My story is not flashy enough, not all like the others, but grace...
Herein is grace - though redeemed, I fall down. Grace picks me up again, and leaves me much more humbled than before I fell. I do not see the bruises on others as much as I used to, the speck in their eye is not nearly as visible. My log is still in mine, but the years are breaking it down. It is splintering off piece by piece.
Wait! How did I get off the subject of grace? Nope, didn't!!
His grace extended to my needy soul has revealed more of my need to do the same to others. My judgment of others has hindered mercy towards them. How could I not see that years ago? Oh yes...the log, the supersize California Giant Sequoia size!!!
The more I get to know my God, the more I understand in a very limited way, why Jesus had to die. I am pitiful enough as it is, and without Him, there would be no hope for me. I praise Him daily that His work is sufficient for me to enter His glory and I rely on grace one day at a time. Most of all I want others to see Jesus, and if I do not love like He did, they may never know the grace that I can share about today.
Joyce, thank you so much for sharing your heart. We have such a good, gentle, persistent God, don't we?!
- - -
Joyce, you've alluded to some similarities in our stories, and I wondered if you'd be willing to share more.
About grace, what I have learned...
Big question, Rachel, big indeed.
At times I feel so unworthy to even mention the word, but grace...
I am not really qualified to share, but grace...
My memory escapes me, but grace...
I have messed up too many times, but grace...
How can someone so proud even talk about it? But grace...
I have fallen off my pedestal too many times, too bruised up, but grace...
My story is not flashy enough, not all like the others, but grace...
Herein is grace - though redeemed, I fall down. Grace picks me up again, and leaves me much more humbled than before I fell. I do not see the bruises on others as much as I used to, the speck in their eye is not nearly as visible. My log is still in mine, but the years are breaking it down. It is splintering off piece by piece.
Wait! How did I get off the subject of grace? Nope, didn't!!
His grace extended to my needy soul has revealed more of my need to do the same to others. My judgment of others has hindered mercy towards them. How could I not see that years ago? Oh yes...the log, the supersize California Giant Sequoia size!!!
The more I get to know my God, the more I understand in a very limited way, why Jesus had to die. I am pitiful enough as it is, and without Him, there would be no hope for me. I praise Him daily that His work is sufficient for me to enter His glory and I rely on grace one day at a time. Most of all I want others to see Jesus, and if I do not love like He did, they may never know the grace that I can share about today.
Joyce, thank you so much for sharing your heart. We have such a good, gentle, persistent God, don't we?!
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
Celebration: {Day 22} Abigail's Story
Gotten off track? Struggling with hypocrisy or pride? Busy doing good things but don't have time for God? Grace never ignores us, though we might be ignoring it. Abigail shares her story of the God who never gives up on us.
- - -
I have been racking my brain trying to find a meaningful example of how God has shown me grace recently. Sure I could tell the story of how I came to know Him, or how I found forgiveness from a dishonest lifestyle or how He helped me to get out of an unhealthy relationship. But those things happened years ago. I wanted to share something that happened just recently.
But I couldn't think of anything. And this really frustrated me, because I know that it revealed where my life was at...not where it should be. Sadly, I found out that I rarely have been aware of God's grace and love recently...not a position a believer ought to be in.
The Lord really spoke to me on Sunday at church. The message hit me pretty hard. The speaker listed "Twelve Evidences That I Have Left My First Love". So many of these were clearly there in my life that it was sickening. I vaguely knew that these things were going on, but I hadn't fully realized or connected the dots to see that they showed a lack of love for the Lord.
1. Do I delight in someone else more than the Lord? Check.
2. Do I not long for fellowship in God's Word and prayer? Compared with other things, not at all.
3. Do I reflect on other things during leisure time? Oh yes.
4. Do I easily give in to things which displease the Lord? Sadly, check.
5. Do I grudgingly give to the Lord? Check.
6. Do I fail to treat all Christians as I would treat the Lord? Check. Especially certain family members.
7. Does if feel like His commandments restrict my happiness? Sometimes...so yes, check.
8. Do I strive for public acclaim rather than to please the Lord? Check. A thousand times, yes. This is perhaps one of my most shameful sins and constant downfall.
9. Do I fail to witness for fear of embarrassment or persecution? Check.
10. Do I offend weaker Christians because I am unwilling to give up my "freedoms"? Probably...still have to think about this one.
11. Do I ignore sin and leave it unconfessed in my life? Check. Probably why I have missed the breaking of bread about 75% of the time this year.
12. Do I hold grudges against other people? Check.
Man! I am so disgusting inside.
The funny thing is, I thought I was ok. On the outside I look fine 'cause I've been discipling several people, involving myself in ministry, trying to read my Bible and pray regularly, witnessing to a friend once in a while, encouraging other people, .etc. So I thought I was growing.
But then the speaker talked about how we should bring everything before God.
It hit me that I was doing, doing, doing. All in my own strength. All of these good things had become wrong because of the fact that I was proud of myself for doing them. I was not coming before God to ask for His grace, because I didn't think I needed it. I was just fine on my own.
Or was I?
Two things I realized from the message on Sunday:
1. I looked ok on the outside, but AGAIN I had forgotten about the most important thing...a deep, intimate fellowship and relationship with Jesus, a relationship that changes me from the inside out.
2. Anytime I say "I've got this", I am really just doing works in my own strength. I am not depending on God. It is a slap in the face to God and a rejection of His grace for me.
Today I read a blog post about the young rich man who came to Jesus telling Him all about the way he had lived perfectly and done everything right. As I read, I saw myself in that young man. I am always trying to do the right thing, trying to be good, kind, patient, and to keep all the rules. I started to cry when I read about how hard this man had tried, because I knew that even all of that was not enough.
I felt myself in his place, knowing that I too was not good enough despite how hard I tried. I knew that Jesus' response would be that he hadn't done the right thing and in the end the young man would turn away from Jesus...
Then I read this verse. "Jesus looked and him and loved him." (Mark 10:21)
This was the last thing I thought I would read. I had forgotten this verse was even there. I had immediately jumped in my mind to the next part of the passage, where the young man goes away discouraged because Jesus points out where he has failed. But here it was. Before correcting him, Jesus looks at him with love.
Jesus knows. He truly knows that I am trying. He knows because He made me, and He sees the desires of my heart. He knows that I am the type of person to try really hard to get things right. He knows that I try too hard sometimes and get caught up with myself and forget about Him. And yet, the first thing He does is love me, just like the first thing He did with this young man was to love him.
What a sweet, kind person Jesus is. He truly cares about me.
And then, part of caring about me is to show me where I am off track. He showed the rich young man that he lacked one thing: to give everything up and follow Him.
Truly, nothing on earth, no good thing I do, no riches I have, should be allowed to compare with being with Jesus. Yet I know that they have recently, and that I have not allowed Him to come near me and change me. I have held on to ME.
So perhaps my grace story starts with realizing that I need that grace. I need His forgiveness and love and I need Him to change me every day. I cannot let myself become hardened. I cannot let myself wander away from my first love. The consequences are tremendous.
But I realize that I have, and I know now that again I need God's grace to turn my heart and mind to Him and make Him my passion.
Abigail C.
- - -
I have been racking my brain trying to find a meaningful example of how God has shown me grace recently. Sure I could tell the story of how I came to know Him, or how I found forgiveness from a dishonest lifestyle or how He helped me to get out of an unhealthy relationship. But those things happened years ago. I wanted to share something that happened just recently.
But I couldn't think of anything. And this really frustrated me, because I know that it revealed where my life was at...not where it should be. Sadly, I found out that I rarely have been aware of God's grace and love recently...not a position a believer ought to be in.
The Lord really spoke to me on Sunday at church. The message hit me pretty hard. The speaker listed "Twelve Evidences That I Have Left My First Love". So many of these were clearly there in my life that it was sickening. I vaguely knew that these things were going on, but I hadn't fully realized or connected the dots to see that they showed a lack of love for the Lord.
1. Do I delight in someone else more than the Lord? Check.
2. Do I not long for fellowship in God's Word and prayer? Compared with other things, not at all.
3. Do I reflect on other things during leisure time? Oh yes.
4. Do I easily give in to things which displease the Lord? Sadly, check.
5. Do I grudgingly give to the Lord? Check.
6. Do I fail to treat all Christians as I would treat the Lord? Check. Especially certain family members.
7. Does if feel like His commandments restrict my happiness? Sometimes...so yes, check.
8. Do I strive for public acclaim rather than to please the Lord? Check. A thousand times, yes. This is perhaps one of my most shameful sins and constant downfall.
9. Do I fail to witness for fear of embarrassment or persecution? Check.
10. Do I offend weaker Christians because I am unwilling to give up my "freedoms"? Probably...still have to think about this one.
11. Do I ignore sin and leave it unconfessed in my life? Check. Probably why I have missed the breaking of bread about 75% of the time this year.
12. Do I hold grudges against other people? Check.
Man! I am so disgusting inside.
The funny thing is, I thought I was ok. On the outside I look fine 'cause I've been discipling several people, involving myself in ministry, trying to read my Bible and pray regularly, witnessing to a friend once in a while, encouraging other people, .etc. So I thought I was growing.
But then the speaker talked about how we should bring everything before God.
It hit me that I was doing, doing, doing. All in my own strength. All of these good things had become wrong because of the fact that I was proud of myself for doing them. I was not coming before God to ask for His grace, because I didn't think I needed it. I was just fine on my own.
Or was I?
Two things I realized from the message on Sunday:
1. I looked ok on the outside, but AGAIN I had forgotten about the most important thing...a deep, intimate fellowship and relationship with Jesus, a relationship that changes me from the inside out.
2. Anytime I say "I've got this", I am really just doing works in my own strength. I am not depending on God. It is a slap in the face to God and a rejection of His grace for me.
Today I read a blog post about the young rich man who came to Jesus telling Him all about the way he had lived perfectly and done everything right. As I read, I saw myself in that young man. I am always trying to do the right thing, trying to be good, kind, patient, and to keep all the rules. I started to cry when I read about how hard this man had tried, because I knew that even all of that was not enough.
I felt myself in his place, knowing that I too was not good enough despite how hard I tried. I knew that Jesus' response would be that he hadn't done the right thing and in the end the young man would turn away from Jesus...
Then I read this verse. "Jesus looked and him and loved him." (Mark 10:21)
This was the last thing I thought I would read. I had forgotten this verse was even there. I had immediately jumped in my mind to the next part of the passage, where the young man goes away discouraged because Jesus points out where he has failed. But here it was. Before correcting him, Jesus looks at him with love.
Jesus knows. He truly knows that I am trying. He knows because He made me, and He sees the desires of my heart. He knows that I am the type of person to try really hard to get things right. He knows that I try too hard sometimes and get caught up with myself and forget about Him. And yet, the first thing He does is love me, just like the first thing He did with this young man was to love him.
What a sweet, kind person Jesus is. He truly cares about me.
And then, part of caring about me is to show me where I am off track. He showed the rich young man that he lacked one thing: to give everything up and follow Him.
Truly, nothing on earth, no good thing I do, no riches I have, should be allowed to compare with being with Jesus. Yet I know that they have recently, and that I have not allowed Him to come near me and change me. I have held on to ME.
So perhaps my grace story starts with realizing that I need that grace. I need His forgiveness and love and I need Him to change me every day. I cannot let myself become hardened. I cannot let myself wander away from my first love. The consequences are tremendous.
But I realize that I have, and I know now that again I need God's grace to turn my heart and mind to Him and make Him my passion.
Abigail C.
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
Celebration: {Day 21} In Spiritual Disciplines
Prayer. Praise. Bible reading. Memorization. Study. Going to church.
I said that grace helped me realize that all of life could be worship, not just things like reading my Bible.
But that doesn't mean I've left all those things (the so-called "spiritual disciplines") to the side. Oh, no. It just means that my attitude towards them has changed. My motivation for them has changed. And they might look a little different than they did before.
Prayer has become less of a closing-my-eyes-and-starting-with-Dear-God thing. It's more like the kind of conversation you'd have with a close friend: you talk about everything, the big and the little, the good and the bad, the funny, the sad, the scary, the beautiful. You sometimes sit down just to talk, but you also can talk as you go about your daily dish-washing, toilet-scrubbing, laundry-hanging life. You're safe and free to share your heart without obsessing about getting your words exactly right. You don't talk because you have to, but because you trust them, you know they care, and you enjoy their company.
I don't read my Bible anymore with the expectation that simply reading it will make me holier. I read it because I love the stories of what my Hero has done (and because I know He is the same Hero today!). I read it because I believe what God has to say in its pages actually matters for my life - that He actually has something relevant to say to me, today. Pretty incredible, when you think about it!
And memorizing? It's no longer an exercise in mental agility. (Side note: I used to chose long passages - even whole books - to memorize because "more is better [holier]!" Never mind about whether or not I actually let the truths in what I was memorizing sink down into my heart.) Now, I tend to memorize certain verses because a verse or passage hits me where I'm at, and I want to remember it. For instance, if I'm struggling with fear, I'm not going to choose a verse on fear in the hopes that simply repeating it over and over to myself will banish the fear. I'd choose to memorize it because I know I need that truth - because I've already been helped in some measure by reading it, and I want to keep that encouragement close to my heart.
The list could go on, of course. What would you say? Has grace changed any of these things for you?
I said that grace helped me realize that all of life could be worship, not just things like reading my Bible.
But that doesn't mean I've left all those things (the so-called "spiritual disciplines") to the side. Oh, no. It just means that my attitude towards them has changed. My motivation for them has changed. And they might look a little different than they did before.
Prayer has become less of a closing-my-eyes-and-starting-with-Dear-God thing. It's more like the kind of conversation you'd have with a close friend: you talk about everything, the big and the little, the good and the bad, the funny, the sad, the scary, the beautiful. You sometimes sit down just to talk, but you also can talk as you go about your daily dish-washing, toilet-scrubbing, laundry-hanging life. You're safe and free to share your heart without obsessing about getting your words exactly right. You don't talk because you have to, but because you trust them, you know they care, and you enjoy their company.
I don't read my Bible anymore with the expectation that simply reading it will make me holier. I read it because I love the stories of what my Hero has done (and because I know He is the same Hero today!). I read it because I believe what God has to say in its pages actually matters for my life - that He actually has something relevant to say to me, today. Pretty incredible, when you think about it!
And memorizing? It's no longer an exercise in mental agility. (Side note: I used to chose long passages - even whole books - to memorize because "more is better [holier]!" Never mind about whether or not I actually let the truths in what I was memorizing sink down into my heart.) Now, I tend to memorize certain verses because a verse or passage hits me where I'm at, and I want to remember it. For instance, if I'm struggling with fear, I'm not going to choose a verse on fear in the hopes that simply repeating it over and over to myself will banish the fear. I'd choose to memorize it because I know I need that truth - because I've already been helped in some measure by reading it, and I want to keep that encouragement close to my heart.
The list could go on, of course. What would you say? Has grace changed any of these things for you?
Monday, October 20, 2014
Celebration: {Day 20} Leave a Scar
I used to wish that I could rewrite history
I used to dream that each mistake could be erased
That I could just pretend
I never knew the me back then...
But it's the memory of
The place You brought me from
That keeps me on my knees
And even though I'm free
Heal the wound but leave a scar
A reminder of how merciful You are...
(Heal the Wound by Point of Grace)
I went through a stage post-grace awakening where I wished that I could deny that Pharisee with my name and my face ever existed. It saddened me to think of how blind I'd been. How proud I'd been. How many people I'd inadvertently shut out because of my high-minded "holiness". How poor a reflection of Jesus I'd been. Those memories were embarrassing, and I desperately wanted to hide from the old me.
But to ignore that part of my life would be to ignore what God has done.
He's a redeemer, our God.
And His grace redeems every. part. of my story. I never want to forget His power to transform a Pharisee. I never want to lose sight of how relentless His love is, or take His gift lightly.
I want to treasure this freedom, to embrace it with everything I am. I want to live and breathe and sing and share His grace.
And so I pray He leaves the scar, the evidence of when that old way of life was pulled away, a vivid reminder of His mercy and grace.
I used to dream that each mistake could be erased
That I could just pretend
I never knew the me back then...
But it's the memory of
The place You brought me from
That keeps me on my knees
And even though I'm free
Heal the wound but leave a scar
A reminder of how merciful You are...
(Heal the Wound by Point of Grace)
I went through a stage post-grace awakening where I wished that I could deny that Pharisee with my name and my face ever existed. It saddened me to think of how blind I'd been. How proud I'd been. How many people I'd inadvertently shut out because of my high-minded "holiness". How poor a reflection of Jesus I'd been. Those memories were embarrassing, and I desperately wanted to hide from the old me.
But to ignore that part of my life would be to ignore what God has done.
He's a redeemer, our God.
And His grace redeems every. part. of my story. I never want to forget His power to transform a Pharisee. I never want to lose sight of how relentless His love is, or take His gift lightly.
I want to treasure this freedom, to embrace it with everything I am. I want to live and breathe and sing and share His grace.
And so I pray He leaves the scar, the evidence of when that old way of life was pulled away, a vivid reminder of His mercy and grace.
Sunday, October 19, 2014
Celebration: {Day 19} Messy Art
Hi, I'm Rachel. Neat Freak is my middle name. (Or Organized, whatever.)
I don't remember what I was like when I was little, but by the time I reached the second decade of my life, my neat freak-y tendencies were well established.
I had a neat little room with a neat little desk and a neat little planner on the desk. The drawers, the closet, my life were all models of tidiness. I took both comfort and pride in my well-ordered, well-oiled life.
And then...grace.
It was disruptive. Unsettling. Messy.
Perhaps that was part of why I'd resisted (and ignored) it for so long: it was like a hand sweeping away my illusion of control.
If I accepted grace, I'd have to live with gray areas. I'd to have to be okay with imperfection - in myself and in others. I'd have to come to terms with the idea that dealing with situations was not simply a matter of pulling the appropriate folder from a metaphorical file cabinet.
I'd have to admit that I didn't have it all figured out, and furthermore couldn't figure it all out. I'd have to realize that truth didn't come in uniform doses, to be gulped down once a day with a glass of water.
I'd have to trust myself, my life, my future (and everyone else's, too) to a God who did not fit in a desk drawer divider or in a shoebox on a shelf - a God who isn't 100% predictable, yet always entirely faithful.
Slowly I started to open my heart. To trust this God of messy grace. To surrender to the fact that I am a work in progress and not a finished piece.
God is an artist, painting the story of our lives with masterful grace-strokes, and letting Him work means relinquishing the need for control (whether that takes the form of neat freak-iness or something else). Who would expect the studio to be tidy while the picture is still being painted? Who would think of finding the paint bottles with their tops all closed, the palette washed and tucked away in a box, the easel folded in a corner?
One day His grace-art will be finished. And it will be beautiful. Until then, let's remember that we can't have the beauty without the mess. In fact (dare I say it?), we can celebrate the messy as evidence of the work He is doing.
I don't remember what I was like when I was little, but by the time I reached the second decade of my life, my neat freak-y tendencies were well established.
I had a neat little room with a neat little desk and a neat little planner on the desk. The drawers, the closet, my life were all models of tidiness. I took both comfort and pride in my well-ordered, well-oiled life.
And then...grace.
It was disruptive. Unsettling. Messy.
Perhaps that was part of why I'd resisted (and ignored) it for so long: it was like a hand sweeping away my illusion of control.
If I accepted grace, I'd have to live with gray areas. I'd to have to be okay with imperfection - in myself and in others. I'd have to come to terms with the idea that dealing with situations was not simply a matter of pulling the appropriate folder from a metaphorical file cabinet.
I'd have to admit that I didn't have it all figured out, and furthermore couldn't figure it all out. I'd have to realize that truth didn't come in uniform doses, to be gulped down once a day with a glass of water.
I'd have to trust myself, my life, my future (and everyone else's, too) to a God who did not fit in a desk drawer divider or in a shoebox on a shelf - a God who isn't 100% predictable, yet always entirely faithful.
Slowly I started to open my heart. To trust this God of messy grace. To surrender to the fact that I am a work in progress and not a finished piece.
God is an artist, painting the story of our lives with masterful grace-strokes, and letting Him work means relinquishing the need for control (whether that takes the form of neat freak-iness or something else). Who would expect the studio to be tidy while the picture is still being painted? Who would think of finding the paint bottles with their tops all closed, the palette washed and tucked away in a box, the easel folded in a corner?
One day His grace-art will be finished. And it will be beautiful. Until then, let's remember that we can't have the beauty without the mess. In fact (dare I say it?), we can celebrate the messy as evidence of the work He is doing.
Saturday, October 18, 2014
Celebration: {Day 18} When I'm Empty
It's a feeling most of us hate: emptiness. We spend much of our lives trying to avoid that feeling in its different forms - hunger, loneliness, boredom, inadequacy, etc.
Our 21st century lives could easily be characterized by the word full.
But I wonder if that fullness is really just an illusion?
I wonder, too, if emptiness is such a bad thing. If we need to go to such lengths to avoid it.
It might just be the ideal catalyst to a deeper, overflowing experience of grace.
Tonight, the clock fast approaching midnight, I am short on words. Coming up empty on any of the topics I'd considered writing about today.
So I'll open my heart to drink in that grace once again.
My emptiness, His fullness...
My hunger, His manna...
My weakness, His strength...
My not-enough-ness, His total sufficiency...
This is my resting place - at the end of the day, the end of the week, and for always.
Our 21st century lives could easily be characterized by the word full.
But I wonder if that fullness is really just an illusion?
I wonder, too, if emptiness is such a bad thing. If we need to go to such lengths to avoid it.
It might just be the ideal catalyst to a deeper, overflowing experience of grace.
Tonight, the clock fast approaching midnight, I am short on words. Coming up empty on any of the topics I'd considered writing about today.
So I'll open my heart to drink in that grace once again.
My emptiness, His fullness...
My hunger, His manna...
My weakness, His strength...
My not-enough-ness, His total sufficiency...
This is my resting place - at the end of the day, the end of the week, and for always.
Friday, October 17, 2014
Celebration: {Day 17} For Whys and What Ifs
Sometimes I can't help but wonder...
Why, God? Why?
But it isn't the fist-shaking of unbelief or anger.
It is, in a sense, the acknowledgement of my human-ness.
I am not God. I do not, I cannot, understand Him fully. He thinks differently than I do. He does things differently than I do (or would choose to).
Sometimes His plan includes things that make no sense. Things that tear at the heart. Things that snatch dreams away. Things that turn worlds topsy-turvy.
Why did You let this happen, God?
What purpose can You possibly have in mind?
What if _____ happens?
For the times when questions like these seem to rise up irrepressible, we have a place to run to. A mighty fortress - with twin towers called Sovereignty and Grace.
As a friend so beautifully put it, "My 'whys' and 'what ifs' are safe with Him."
He's not threatened, surprised, or angered by our questions.
He's not up in heaven, hand on hip, going, "Come on, don't you trust Me? I mean, really. Hurry up and trust Me already!" He is a God of grace. He knows our human-ness perfectly. And He invites us, open-armed, to come near with all our whys and what ifs, to hide safe in His grace. We may not always find the answers to our questions. But we can simply snuggle up in His love, fully assured that He's got me, you, them, this whole world in His hands.
And He's not letting go. Ever.
Beautiful, beautiful grace.
Why, God? Why?
But it isn't the fist-shaking of unbelief or anger.
It is, in a sense, the acknowledgement of my human-ness.
I am not God. I do not, I cannot, understand Him fully. He thinks differently than I do. He does things differently than I do (or would choose to).
Sometimes His plan includes things that make no sense. Things that tear at the heart. Things that snatch dreams away. Things that turn worlds topsy-turvy.
Why did You let this happen, God?
What purpose can You possibly have in mind?
What if _____ happens?
For the times when questions like these seem to rise up irrepressible, we have a place to run to. A mighty fortress - with twin towers called Sovereignty and Grace.
As a friend so beautifully put it, "My 'whys' and 'what ifs' are safe with Him."
He's not threatened, surprised, or angered by our questions.
He's not up in heaven, hand on hip, going, "Come on, don't you trust Me? I mean, really. Hurry up and trust Me already!" He is a God of grace. He knows our human-ness perfectly. And He invites us, open-armed, to come near with all our whys and what ifs, to hide safe in His grace. We may not always find the answers to our questions. But we can simply snuggle up in His love, fully assured that He's got me, you, them, this whole world in His hands.
And He's not letting go. Ever.
Beautiful, beautiful grace.
Thursday, October 16, 2014
Celebration: {Day 16} New Reading Glasses
I've been talking a lot about changes in my life since I began to truly understand grace. Another area I'd like to mention is reading the Word. Yes, in a general sense, grace has changed my attitude towards Bible reading (which I may or may not revisit in another post). More specifically, though, it's changed the way I read certain books. It's like I got a new prescription and suddenly things that were fuzzy or distorted are clear now. (Although maybe I shouldn't use that illustration, since I've never worn glasses...)
The Gospels - I'd always identified primarily with the disciples. When Jesus addressed them, I sort of saw myself sitting among them and listening. I was a follower of Jesus, too, wasn't I? But a few years ago I also found myself identifying with another group of people: the Pharisees. We like to paint them as proud hypocrites, and of course they were. But they also represented the religious establishment of the day. They represented orthodoxy. They were do-things-by-the-book people. With that in mind, it was unsettling to notice that Jesus reserved His most scathing rebukes for them. After all, I had been living well within the bounds of orthodoxy. I was a do-it-by-the-book kind of person. His rebukes were directed at people like me - people who kept the rules, made up their own rules to keep them from breaking the real rules, and all the while thought they were worshipping God when in reality they were worshipping...rules (and their supposed ability to keep them). That realization shook me up in a big way.
Romans - I vividly remember the first time I read through it after what I call "my grace awakening". Romans talks so much about Christ's righteousness being given to us, and to me it was always such a theological, theoretical kind of thing. Yes, it was real, and yes, I believed it - as a transaction that occurred when I became a child of God. As a sort of ticket. God handed it to me when I was saved, and then before I stepped through Heaven's door, I'd hand it back. "Here, God. It's because of Christ's righteousness that I can come in." What I'd never, ever seen before was that His righteousness wasn't just for salvation ("salvation" being thought of as a particular point in time), it was actually for every. single. day. For life. It was totally a light bulb moment. "You mean, Christ's righteousness is a present reality in my life at this very instant, as I'm sitting here in my pajamas and drinking coffee? It makes a difference right now?" I don't know that I can adequately express just how good that good news was to me.
Galatians - I can still remember my mom quoting the beginning of chapter 3 when I was a little girl. "Oh foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you? ...Are you so foolish? Having begun in the Spirit, are you now being made perfect by the flesh?" I used to laugh a little, because foolish and bewitched were funny words, and because duh, Galatians! You couldn't save yourselves to begin with, so how in the world did you think you could keep yourselves saved?! But it wasn't funny when, years down the road, I saw myself reflected perfectly in those verses. I'd tossed the gift of God's grace on a dusty shelf and begun to work to stay in good standing with Him (I would have called it "trying to grow in my relationship with Him"). I'd received the Holy Spirit, but I'd waved Him to the side while I tried to figure this whole walking with God thing out by myself. Foolish? Bewitched? I hung my head. Yes. But then there was the lighthouse-beam of 5:1. It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Don't go back to the old bondage! Freedom! It's what Christ had made me for. What He had died for. What He longed for me to live in.
Hebrews - This was one of the key books that helped me understand grace. The entire premise is the shadow (a system of externals) vs. the reality (Christ and a real relationship with Him). I had complete access to the reality, didn't I? Why in the world would I then choose to live in the shadows? Why would I cling to the externals when they weren't just nice little things that had no effect, but were actually getting in the way of the reality? After I began to understand that, I was encouraged by another major theme of Hebrews. Yes, there is freedom in grace, but the old structure of externals was familiar and (at times) relatively comfortable. Grace by comparison seemed bewildering and risky. So I could relate to the First Century readers of the book, who, having left Judaism to follow Christ, found themselves looking back over their shoulders. Was this really it? Was there no elaborate process necessary to approach God? Was there no need for all those rules to keep me in check? Was I getting totally off track with all this grace stuff? Like them, I needed the encouragement, the reminders to hold fast to the grace I'd been given.
How about you? Do you have any new reading glasses stories?
The Gospels - I'd always identified primarily with the disciples. When Jesus addressed them, I sort of saw myself sitting among them and listening. I was a follower of Jesus, too, wasn't I? But a few years ago I also found myself identifying with another group of people: the Pharisees. We like to paint them as proud hypocrites, and of course they were. But they also represented the religious establishment of the day. They represented orthodoxy. They were do-things-by-the-book people. With that in mind, it was unsettling to notice that Jesus reserved His most scathing rebukes for them. After all, I had been living well within the bounds of orthodoxy. I was a do-it-by-the-book kind of person. His rebukes were directed at people like me - people who kept the rules, made up their own rules to keep them from breaking the real rules, and all the while thought they were worshipping God when in reality they were worshipping...rules (and their supposed ability to keep them). That realization shook me up in a big way.
Romans - I vividly remember the first time I read through it after what I call "my grace awakening". Romans talks so much about Christ's righteousness being given to us, and to me it was always such a theological, theoretical kind of thing. Yes, it was real, and yes, I believed it - as a transaction that occurred when I became a child of God. As a sort of ticket. God handed it to me when I was saved, and then before I stepped through Heaven's door, I'd hand it back. "Here, God. It's because of Christ's righteousness that I can come in." What I'd never, ever seen before was that His righteousness wasn't just for salvation ("salvation" being thought of as a particular point in time), it was actually for every. single. day. For life. It was totally a light bulb moment. "You mean, Christ's righteousness is a present reality in my life at this very instant, as I'm sitting here in my pajamas and drinking coffee? It makes a difference right now?" I don't know that I can adequately express just how good that good news was to me.
Galatians - I can still remember my mom quoting the beginning of chapter 3 when I was a little girl. "Oh foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you? ...Are you so foolish? Having begun in the Spirit, are you now being made perfect by the flesh?" I used to laugh a little, because foolish and bewitched were funny words, and because duh, Galatians! You couldn't save yourselves to begin with, so how in the world did you think you could keep yourselves saved?! But it wasn't funny when, years down the road, I saw myself reflected perfectly in those verses. I'd tossed the gift of God's grace on a dusty shelf and begun to work to stay in good standing with Him (I would have called it "trying to grow in my relationship with Him"). I'd received the Holy Spirit, but I'd waved Him to the side while I tried to figure this whole walking with God thing out by myself. Foolish? Bewitched? I hung my head. Yes. But then there was the lighthouse-beam of 5:1. It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Don't go back to the old bondage! Freedom! It's what Christ had made me for. What He had died for. What He longed for me to live in.
Hebrews - This was one of the key books that helped me understand grace. The entire premise is the shadow (a system of externals) vs. the reality (Christ and a real relationship with Him). I had complete access to the reality, didn't I? Why in the world would I then choose to live in the shadows? Why would I cling to the externals when they weren't just nice little things that had no effect, but were actually getting in the way of the reality? After I began to understand that, I was encouraged by another major theme of Hebrews. Yes, there is freedom in grace, but the old structure of externals was familiar and (at times) relatively comfortable. Grace by comparison seemed bewildering and risky. So I could relate to the First Century readers of the book, who, having left Judaism to follow Christ, found themselves looking back over their shoulders. Was this really it? Was there no elaborate process necessary to approach God? Was there no need for all those rules to keep me in check? Was I getting totally off track with all this grace stuff? Like them, I needed the encouragement, the reminders to hold fast to the grace I'd been given.
How about you? Do you have any new reading glasses stories?
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
Celebration: {Day 15} More from Chuck and Irene
Hurray! Mr. and Mrs. B. are back with more about the grace God has shown them. Life isn't all roses, as their testimonies show, but God's grace is still present - perhaps even more beautiful and precious through the difficulties.
- - -
While there is so much grace for our lives, we thought that we might share a summarized list.
We both heard the gospel as children, and God has given us the grace to be saved. We are so grateful as finding grace in His sight, He knows us by name (Exodus 33:17).
After the abuse Irene received in her childhood, God has given us the grace to forgive. Let us forgive as God through Christ has forgiven us (Ephesians 4:32).
I (Chuck) was very shy as a youth, so one of the hardest things in the world was to say anything publicly. And yet by God's grace and power, He has made me His minister (Ephesians 3:7).
After our son, Micah, was killed, we struggled for happiness, and yet we never lost our joy or had any anger in our souls. Though suffocating in grief, we could finally breathe again through God's "everlasting consolation and good hope through grace" (2 Thessalonians 2:16).
After a betrayal by allies [ministry partners], God has granted the grace to never quit, and never to grow bitter or defiled (Hebrews 12:15). Both grace and truth are from our Lord Jesus Christ (John 1:17).
When our granddaughter, Taylor, was weakened in cancer and pain, standing at her bedside, God has given the grace to keep hoping on. Boldly, we sought God's throne of grace to help in time of need (Hebrews 4:16).
Standing by the fresh grave of our little grandson, Lincoln, we clung to that grace of the Blessed Hope in resurrection. People held us in prayer to know God's exceeding grace (2 Corinthians 9:14). And the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ met us in our spirits (Philemon 25).
When our little grandson, Asher, was born deaf, we found the grace to be strong and to keep trusting on. Through faith, God's people are strong through the grace of Christ (2 Timothy 2:1).
Both of our daughters gave birth through very difficult, life-threatening experiences, but through grace they lived to raise their families. God once again has multiplied His grace and peace (2 Peter 1:2).
Seeking to serve faithfully in missions, God has led so clearly - but in His time as to where to go. God gives grace and glory while "no good thing will He withhold from them that walk uprightly" (Psalm 84:11).
We labored where religious traditions have held the masses in deception, yet God has given the grace to weep for their souls. We trust a remnant shall be saved "according to the election of grace" (Romans 11:5).
Irene has suffered for years, while waking in nights and limping through life from her pain in a shattered ankle, by grace waiting patiently for a new body to come. She has found God true, "My grace is sufficient for thee" (2 Corinthians 12:9).
Through the unnumbered threats of death through fire, accidents, struggling planes, collisions, and the illness of life against our families, God has granted to the living the grace to live another day. The Lord's grace is exceeding abundant in faith and love (1 Timothy 1:14).
When God's children travel through the storms of life, aren't we grateful for His grace to find the harbors and seasons of peace! Looking for our final harbor, then let us finish our course with joy while testifying of the grace of God (Acts 20:24).
"Grace be with you all. Amen." (Titus 3:15)
Chuck B.
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Celebration: {Day 14} For Ministering
Grace for ministering to others. What does that mean? Rather than giving you some long-winded philosophical speech on the subject, I'd like to talk about what it may look like, from my own experience.
When I was 19, I moved to Missouri for training with NTM. I was there for two years, and I think it's pretty safe to say that I grew more during those two years than I had in the rest of my life up until that point. Circumstances spurred that growth in part, but it was mostly thanks to the people God brought into my life during that time.
There were my small group leaders. I think back to where I was in my walk and my understanding at that point, and you know what's so striking to me? How they dealt with my "issues". I mean, if I had been them, and I was supposed to be discipling the old me, I would have charged in with a list the length of the Golden Gate Bridge and tried to tackle every last issue.
"Hey, you think you have to dress that certain way? Actually that's not true. After all, God is way more concerned with the heart than with the outward appearance."
"So you think percussion is un-worshipful? Go read Psalm 150:5 for starters." (Cringe! It even uses the word "loud"!)
"You think God is limited to the KJV? Bummer. I guess that means He can't speak through any other version, in any other language."
Etc., etc.
But they didn't. They just modeled grace. Lived it. Shared what God was doing in their lives. Gave me the freedom of an environment where I could be open about my struggles. Nudged me closer to Jesus. They never tried to "fix" me.
Now, I'm not saying they were confrontation-phobes or that they'd never point out sin. I'm saying that their attitude was not one of taking the responsibility to change me. They left that to the Holy Spirit, knowing He is always, always the most effective teacher. Instead of spending all their energy chipping away at specific issues, they focused on encouraging my overall walk with the Lord. They knew that as I grew closer to the Lord, those issues would be handled.
(Side note: There is an element of trust here. Suppose I "didn't turn out"? Suppose none of those issues went away? Rather than worrying about their own reputations as mentors/disciplers - which could have led to the charge-in-with-a-list approach - they left the outcome entirely in God's hands. Knowing how difficult that kind of trust can be, I now have even more respect for them.)
Then there was a godly friend I'd often go to for advice. She had the irritating habit of not really giving me an answer. She'd more likely ask, "Well, what do you think you should do?" It frustrated me at first, because hey, I was seeking advice and was truly willing to take it. I wanted to grow. But she wasn't being hands-off or refusing to give me any input whatsoever. In essence, rather than handing me a neat little package labeled "The Solution to Situation X", she was taking my hand and walking me back to Jesus, knowing it was a Person I needed, not just an answer. And it was beautiful.
I could give you other examples, but you get my drift.
In the same way that grace makes our relationship with God a warm, living, breathing one, so grace makes our ministering to others warm and living and breathing. I believe true ministering isn't about programs or formulas or pat answers. It isn't about my responsibility as mentor, her role as disciple, their endless wisdom that just must be shared. It isn't about issues being moved one by one to some tidy "dealt with" stack on top of our desks.
It's simply doing life together. Sharing this grace-journey together. Freely. Authentically. Humbly.
When I was 19, I moved to Missouri for training with NTM. I was there for two years, and I think it's pretty safe to say that I grew more during those two years than I had in the rest of my life up until that point. Circumstances spurred that growth in part, but it was mostly thanks to the people God brought into my life during that time.
There were my small group leaders. I think back to where I was in my walk and my understanding at that point, and you know what's so striking to me? How they dealt with my "issues". I mean, if I had been them, and I was supposed to be discipling the old me, I would have charged in with a list the length of the Golden Gate Bridge and tried to tackle every last issue.
"Hey, you think you have to dress that certain way? Actually that's not true. After all, God is way more concerned with the heart than with the outward appearance."
"So you think percussion is un-worshipful? Go read Psalm 150:5 for starters." (Cringe! It even uses the word "loud"!)
"You think God is limited to the KJV? Bummer. I guess that means He can't speak through any other version, in any other language."
Etc., etc.
But they didn't. They just modeled grace. Lived it. Shared what God was doing in their lives. Gave me the freedom of an environment where I could be open about my struggles. Nudged me closer to Jesus. They never tried to "fix" me.
Now, I'm not saying they were confrontation-phobes or that they'd never point out sin. I'm saying that their attitude was not one of taking the responsibility to change me. They left that to the Holy Spirit, knowing He is always, always the most effective teacher. Instead of spending all their energy chipping away at specific issues, they focused on encouraging my overall walk with the Lord. They knew that as I grew closer to the Lord, those issues would be handled.
(Side note: There is an element of trust here. Suppose I "didn't turn out"? Suppose none of those issues went away? Rather than worrying about their own reputations as mentors/disciplers - which could have led to the charge-in-with-a-list approach - they left the outcome entirely in God's hands. Knowing how difficult that kind of trust can be, I now have even more respect for them.)
Then there was a godly friend I'd often go to for advice. She had the irritating habit of not really giving me an answer. She'd more likely ask, "Well, what do you think you should do?" It frustrated me at first, because hey, I was seeking advice and was truly willing to take it. I wanted to grow. But she wasn't being hands-off or refusing to give me any input whatsoever. In essence, rather than handing me a neat little package labeled "The Solution to Situation X", she was taking my hand and walking me back to Jesus, knowing it was a Person I needed, not just an answer. And it was beautiful.
I could give you other examples, but you get my drift.
In the same way that grace makes our relationship with God a warm, living, breathing one, so grace makes our ministering to others warm and living and breathing. I believe true ministering isn't about programs or formulas or pat answers. It isn't about my responsibility as mentor, her role as disciple, their endless wisdom that just must be shared. It isn't about issues being moved one by one to some tidy "dealt with" stack on top of our desks.
It's simply doing life together. Sharing this grace-journey together. Freely. Authentically. Humbly.
Monday, October 13, 2014
Celebration: {Day 13} Chuck and Irene's Story
There are few people I know who are so filled-to-overflowing with God's love! They could write volumes of amazing stories, but here's one Mr. B chose to share. God is faithful - our proven Provider.
- - -
We were headed to the mission field in Ketchikan, Alaska, in the winter of 1982. My friend was helping me drive to the west coast where the family was waiting. We were forced to the side of the road near Sydney, Nebraska when the rear gears of our Scout locked up. I thumbed a ride into town. Then when a tow truck came to get us, the mechanics were going off duty for the weekend.
Jim and I got a hotel. I'd been saving an interesting looking Daily Bread in my Bible, so I read it now. It said, "My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations" (James 1:2). I wondered, would we complain and give the devil the victory or count it all joy to glorify God? We quickly decided to trust completely in the Lord. The Sunday services and the fellowship at church were wonderful and there were opportunities to witness in the town.
My family was booked for a Thursday ferry trip from Seattle to Ketchikan, and so I was eager to get to the garage early Monday morning. Later, I could hardly believe my ears. The shop owner was a fine young man but running from God. His wife was a member at the Baptist Church. He told about searching for parts and none were available in Denver, Omaha, or any place close. That Monday dragged on. Tuesday came as he announced, "Still nothing."
Reflecting about the deadlines, I knew my Scout was really God's, the mission work was His, and we were His servants, so what was He teaching? And then this mechanic said, "Wait here!" To return, he had everything we needed. There was an old Scout just three miles away and everything major on it was gone, but the rear-end of the vehicle was there! That seemed incredible!
Well, it did not take him long to get us on the road and we were headed west. The heater was purring as everything was working perfectly. And pulling a huge load, we crossed the mountains, crept down icy passes, and pushed on through the winter storms of Dead Man's Pass.
My repair bill was over $700. As I was buying gas, my dollar bills were finally all gone. Jim offered me his bit of cash and I said, "No, let's see how far God takes us on what I've got left." Finally, pulling into Seattle late that Wednesday with a day to spare, my wallet was absolutely empty with change in my pocket. Irene had our ferry tickets and enough cash yet to buy some food for the ferry journey north.
Staying with friends that night, we played games to Christmas music. One of the great songs that year was, "Come On Ring Those Bells" by Evie as we played it over and over again. What joy in Jesus as the Lord precisely meets our needs!
It seemed a terrible waste to spend all that money on a vehicle, but the experience proved to be a valuable lesson of God's grace and the faith to trust Him for the years ahead. So we say through the lean times of life: "God gives just enough money, just enough time, and just enough strength!" And looking back, we can always trust the Lord! As God leads His children, He will provide!
On a memorable night before Christmas, several friends stood with us on a Seattle pier as a great boat sounded the horn to head to sea, then to a city that we had never been to before. While the lights of Seattle beamed faintly over the horizon, we had this fresh reminder, "And, lo, I am with you always." (Matthew 28:20)
It seemed like what a waste, but what is money to God? For the years of our lives, we would not trade that experience for anything. God in His grace is the proven Provider!
Chuck B.
Sunday, October 12, 2014
Celebration: {Day 12} Christ's Eyes
Seeing people through Christ's eyes is impossible apart from grace. We might be indifferent. We might be judgmental.
I fell towards the second. If they awarded Nobel Prizes for judging others, I would have stood a pretty good chance of winning.
I used to have the idea that being godly essentially meant looking like me (although I wouldn't have said it in so many words). I realize that sounds unbelievably proud - and of course it was. While I paid lip service to the idea of God making each of us different for a purpose, giving us different gifts and callings, my subconscious image of a mature believer looked suspiciously like, well, me.
When my sister talked about how she wanted to be a veterinarian (a completely normal kid aspiration!), I inwardly shook my head. I mean, taking care of animals?! How unspiritual! How devoid of eternal value! It would be so much better if she chose to be a missionary...like me.
Then there was my first roommate. In spite of some surface similarities, it quickly became apparent that we were polar opposites in many ways. I was a morning bird. She was a night owl. I was a planner. She flew by the seat of her pants. I was organized and meticulous. She was (by my standards then) downright sloppy. I shook my head. How could she be so immature and undisciplined?! Rather than seeing it as merely a difference in personalities, I wanted to make it into a spiritual issue, an issue of maturity. (Granted, laziness or lack of discipline could be factors in some cases, but my point is that I shouldn't have equated "not like me" with "immature".)
Other people had different tastes in music, in clothes, in hobbies? I regarded their choices with suspicion. After all, I didn't do those things, and there were probably very spiritual reasons that I didn't!
Instead of seeing people through God's eyes, I saw them through my own - eyes which had such thick cataracts of legalism.
So how has grace changed that?
First and foremost, I realize that all of us - every single one of us - are on equal footing in God's eyes. There are no tiers at the foot of the cross. Every single one of us was created and loved by God. Every single one of us is a sinner with no hope apart from Christ. And each person who believes in Him has the same Holy Spirit living in them.
It's so easy to see others' shortcomings. But do I have no faults? Is my theology perfect? Do I understand God completely? Of course not! And while I may be able to point out someone's weakness in such-and-such an area, they could just as easily point out a weakness in my life (which is likely a blind spot for me).
Beyond that, I'm learning to embrace the fact that God made each of us unique, and it's actually quite beautiful that not everyone is like me! We need the planner and the spontaneous. The visionary leader and the behind-the-scenes doer. The jolly soul and the quiet, pensive one. The doctor, the artist, the computer tech, the janitor, the homeschool mom.
God is so big that no one person (or personality, or profession) can represent Him entirely. So He uses each of His children, together painting a far richer picture of His character - all of it beautiful grace.
How has grace changed the way you view and interact with others?
I fell towards the second. If they awarded Nobel Prizes for judging others, I would have stood a pretty good chance of winning.
I used to have the idea that being godly essentially meant looking like me (although I wouldn't have said it in so many words). I realize that sounds unbelievably proud - and of course it was. While I paid lip service to the idea of God making each of us different for a purpose, giving us different gifts and callings, my subconscious image of a mature believer looked suspiciously like, well, me.
When my sister talked about how she wanted to be a veterinarian (a completely normal kid aspiration!), I inwardly shook my head. I mean, taking care of animals?! How unspiritual! How devoid of eternal value! It would be so much better if she chose to be a missionary...like me.
Then there was my first roommate. In spite of some surface similarities, it quickly became apparent that we were polar opposites in many ways. I was a morning bird. She was a night owl. I was a planner. She flew by the seat of her pants. I was organized and meticulous. She was (by my standards then) downright sloppy. I shook my head. How could she be so immature and undisciplined?! Rather than seeing it as merely a difference in personalities, I wanted to make it into a spiritual issue, an issue of maturity. (Granted, laziness or lack of discipline could be factors in some cases, but my point is that I shouldn't have equated "not like me" with "immature".)
Other people had different tastes in music, in clothes, in hobbies? I regarded their choices with suspicion. After all, I didn't do those things, and there were probably very spiritual reasons that I didn't!
Instead of seeing people through God's eyes, I saw them through my own - eyes which had such thick cataracts of legalism.
So how has grace changed that?
First and foremost, I realize that all of us - every single one of us - are on equal footing in God's eyes. There are no tiers at the foot of the cross. Every single one of us was created and loved by God. Every single one of us is a sinner with no hope apart from Christ. And each person who believes in Him has the same Holy Spirit living in them.
It's so easy to see others' shortcomings. But do I have no faults? Is my theology perfect? Do I understand God completely? Of course not! And while I may be able to point out someone's weakness in such-and-such an area, they could just as easily point out a weakness in my life (which is likely a blind spot for me).
Beyond that, I'm learning to embrace the fact that God made each of us unique, and it's actually quite beautiful that not everyone is like me! We need the planner and the spontaneous. The visionary leader and the behind-the-scenes doer. The jolly soul and the quiet, pensive one. The doctor, the artist, the computer tech, the janitor, the homeschool mom.
God is so big that no one person (or personality, or profession) can represent Him entirely. So He uses each of His children, together painting a far richer picture of His character - all of it beautiful grace.
How has grace changed the way you view and interact with others?
Saturday, October 11, 2014
Celebration: {Day 11} The Real Deal
Authenticity.
It's a word we toss around a lot these days.
There was a time I'd kind of roll my eyes a bit when I heard someone talking about it, because I have an allergy to clichés.
But the more I think about the concept, the more I become convinced that authenticity and grace actually fit hand-in-glove.
Grace is displayed by authenticity. Authenticity is made safe by grace. The more I understand, receive, and live from God's grace, the more authentic I'll be.
I won't try to impress others with what I can do.
I won't try to cover up my failings.
I won't be interested in presenting a cleaned-up image of myself.
I won't be seeking to gain others' approval or live up to others' expectations.
I'll just...be.
Because grace is all about freedom, not bondage or fear. Grace is all about Him and not about us. Grace is about the work that He is doing in you, in me, in them, and how will the world see that work if we're hiding behind our nicely crafted masks?
Let's take off the masks. Revel in the love that loves us just as we are, rough edges, faults, and all. Live open before each other, before the world, so that God's grace can shine through.
Let's be authentic. Let's embrace grace.
It's a word we toss around a lot these days.
There was a time I'd kind of roll my eyes a bit when I heard someone talking about it, because I have an allergy to clichés.
But the more I think about the concept, the more I become convinced that authenticity and grace actually fit hand-in-glove.
Grace is displayed by authenticity. Authenticity is made safe by grace. The more I understand, receive, and live from God's grace, the more authentic I'll be.
I won't try to impress others with what I can do.
I won't try to cover up my failings.
I won't be interested in presenting a cleaned-up image of myself.
I won't be seeking to gain others' approval or live up to others' expectations.
I'll just...be.
Because grace is all about freedom, not bondage or fear. Grace is all about Him and not about us. Grace is about the work that He is doing in you, in me, in them, and how will the world see that work if we're hiding behind our nicely crafted masks?
Let's take off the masks. Revel in the love that loves us just as we are, rough edges, faults, and all. Live open before each other, before the world, so that God's grace can shine through.
Let's be authentic. Let's embrace grace.
Friday, October 10, 2014
Celebration: {Day 10} Found
It was probably one of the roughest weeks I experienced since coming.
Sunday evening I started coming down with something. I felt tired and slightly feverish, so I went to bed early. I barely slept, though, in part because of the fever, in part because the mattress was the lumpiest, most uneven thing I'd ever slept on in my life.
Monday came. I tried to get up and get ready for class, but I quickly realized there would be no class for me that day. Or the next.
I was in bed for two days, barely able to stand up long enough to walk to the bathroom. I started to get my strength back a bit by the middle of the week, but I still didn't feel like myself. Then our water crisis started (some parts of the city were without any water for a month or so).
When you go a week with barely any sleep or any food, and then add oppressive heat, and then take away the water supply...let me tell you, it's not a very pleasant experience.
People back home talked blithely of gardens and haircuts and pumpkin spice lattes, which did little to improve my mood. (Not that I blame my attitude on anyone but myself).
By that point I'd had all I felt like I could take. It was honestly one of the few times I can remember ever being plain upset with God. I just couldn't pretend with Him. I hated that I was here, and since He was the one who brought me here, He was the one I directed most of my resentment at.
My Bible sat untouched for days. Prayer felt hypocritical.
One evening that week, my friend sent me a new song called Your Grace Finds Me. Without opening the link, I hastily tossed my phone aside and turned my face into the pillow. But I don't want to be found! I just want to curl up in a corner and be left alone, I fumed.
Even though I thought I wanted to be left alone, God wouldn't leave me to myself.
He was gentle. Persistent. Unwavering.
The following Sunday I was back in church, my friend Susie sitting next to me and translating. I remember only one part of the entire service.
When we read Romans 8:38-39.
For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Nothing can separate me from His love. Nothing, nothing, nothing! Not even I, myself. I latched onto that truth like a drowning person grabs a life raft.
And today I celebrate His beautiful, overwhelming, relentless grace - grace that finds me, even if I try to hide.
Sunday evening I started coming down with something. I felt tired and slightly feverish, so I went to bed early. I barely slept, though, in part because of the fever, in part because the mattress was the lumpiest, most uneven thing I'd ever slept on in my life.
Monday came. I tried to get up and get ready for class, but I quickly realized there would be no class for me that day. Or the next.
I was in bed for two days, barely able to stand up long enough to walk to the bathroom. I started to get my strength back a bit by the middle of the week, but I still didn't feel like myself. Then our water crisis started (some parts of the city were without any water for a month or so).
When you go a week with barely any sleep or any food, and then add oppressive heat, and then take away the water supply...let me tell you, it's not a very pleasant experience.
People back home talked blithely of gardens and haircuts and pumpkin spice lattes, which did little to improve my mood. (Not that I blame my attitude on anyone but myself).
By that point I'd had all I felt like I could take. It was honestly one of the few times I can remember ever being plain upset with God. I just couldn't pretend with Him. I hated that I was here, and since He was the one who brought me here, He was the one I directed most of my resentment at.
My Bible sat untouched for days. Prayer felt hypocritical.
One evening that week, my friend sent me a new song called Your Grace Finds Me. Without opening the link, I hastily tossed my phone aside and turned my face into the pillow. But I don't want to be found! I just want to curl up in a corner and be left alone, I fumed.
Even though I thought I wanted to be left alone, God wouldn't leave me to myself.
He was gentle. Persistent. Unwavering.
The following Sunday I was back in church, my friend Susie sitting next to me and translating. I remember only one part of the entire service.
When we read Romans 8:38-39.
For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Nothing can separate me from His love. Nothing, nothing, nothing! Not even I, myself. I latched onto that truth like a drowning person grabs a life raft.
And today I celebrate His beautiful, overwhelming, relentless grace - grace that finds me, even if I try to hide.
Thursday, October 9, 2014
Celebration: {Day 9} Our Second-Chance God
When I mess up, I find comfort and encouragement in peering down the halls of time...seeing how God forgave and redeemed and used others who also messed up.
There was Abraham, who tried to help God keep His promise by having a son with his wife's servant, instead of trusting God to give him a son through Sarah. God was faithful to His promise, even though Abraham didn't wait for Him. Grace.
There were the Israelites...how could I pick one incident?! The whole of Exodus is filled with their grumbling, complaining, disobedience, and lack of faith. God could have wiped them out, but He didn't. He disciplined them, yes, but He also provided for them when they deserved absolutely. nothing. He gave them water and manna and quail in the desert. He kept their clothes from wearing out. For forty years. Grace.
There was David, guilty of murder and adultery. God could have tossed him aside, but he didn't. Instead He continued to use David to lead His people, and inspired him to write a number of songs and prayers which continue to encourage and teach us today. Grace.
There was Manasseh, arguably the wickedest king of Judah. Yet 2 Chronicles 33:12-13 gives us this beautiful testimony: "Now when he was in affliction, he implored the Lord his God, and humbled himself greatly before the God of his fathers, and prayed to Him; and He received his entreaty, heard his supplication, and brought him back to Jerusalem into his kingdom. Then Manasseh knew that the Lord was God." Grace.
There was Jonah, the unwilling missionary. God saved him from the storm (which was a direct result of his disobedience and could have easily taken his life) and gave him another chance to preach the message he'd been given. Grace.
There was Peter, who in spite of grand affirmations, denied the Lord when push came to shove. God still chose to use him greatly in the early church - and to write two letters which we still have today. Grace.
So today, let's celebrate the God of second chances (and third and fourth and four-hundred ninetieth chances).
Let's celebrate the grace that redeems, restores, and makes beautiful our broken pieces. There is hope in that grace - hope for each of us, no matter where we are.
There was Abraham, who tried to help God keep His promise by having a son with his wife's servant, instead of trusting God to give him a son through Sarah. God was faithful to His promise, even though Abraham didn't wait for Him. Grace.
There were the Israelites...how could I pick one incident?! The whole of Exodus is filled with their grumbling, complaining, disobedience, and lack of faith. God could have wiped them out, but He didn't. He disciplined them, yes, but He also provided for them when they deserved absolutely. nothing. He gave them water and manna and quail in the desert. He kept their clothes from wearing out. For forty years. Grace.
There was David, guilty of murder and adultery. God could have tossed him aside, but he didn't. Instead He continued to use David to lead His people, and inspired him to write a number of songs and prayers which continue to encourage and teach us today. Grace.
There was Manasseh, arguably the wickedest king of Judah. Yet 2 Chronicles 33:12-13 gives us this beautiful testimony: "Now when he was in affliction, he implored the Lord his God, and humbled himself greatly before the God of his fathers, and prayed to Him; and He received his entreaty, heard his supplication, and brought him back to Jerusalem into his kingdom. Then Manasseh knew that the Lord was God." Grace.
There was Jonah, the unwilling missionary. God saved him from the storm (which was a direct result of his disobedience and could have easily taken his life) and gave him another chance to preach the message he'd been given. Grace.
There was Peter, who in spite of grand affirmations, denied the Lord when push came to shove. God still chose to use him greatly in the early church - and to write two letters which we still have today. Grace.
So today, let's celebrate the God of second chances (and third and fourth and four-hundred ninetieth chances).
Let's celebrate the grace that redeems, restores, and makes beautiful our broken pieces. There is hope in that grace - hope for each of us, no matter where we are.
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
Celebration: {Day 8} For Living, Again
I used to view life as divided into two different parts: the spiritual and the non-spiritual/mundane. The key to success in the Christian life, I thought, was to spend as much time as possible (ideally all time, if that were possible?) doing spiritual things, like reading my Bible, memorizing Scripture, studying, going to church. And I gave it my best effort.
There were times when my family would be watching Jeopardy and I'd be pacing the length of the backyard with a copy of Psalm 119 or the Sermon on the Mount. I wish that was just a bad joke, but it's the truth. I thought God was pleased with my evident holiness. I thought He smiled bigger on me because I was memorizing His Word while they were watching TV.
But there was this problem...I mean, if I'd read two chapters, I knew I could have always read two more. If I'd worked on my memorization for an hour, I could have worked for longer.
It was never enough. I desperately longed to worship God with my whole life, but what I thought that meant was almost impossible. So I cried when no one was watching, and put on my long-faced I've-got-it-all-together-and-I'm-so-holy look when everyone was watching. God felt distant. Up there. Not here. Not with me. I thought His attitude towards me was as changing as the level of my performance.
One day I discovered someone had put words to the struggle I'd experienced for so long - and then went on to share words of life and hope and freedom.
When you're used to wearing a mask, you are comfortable with compartmentalizing life. Mask-wearing good girls put worship in a slivered-up pie chart, dividing our lives into segments of importance. We assign percentages for work, service, prayer, school, exercise, PTA, meal planning, bill paying, dog walking, toilet cleaning, church, and rest (if we're lucky). But the woman who has freely received the abundance of truth from Jesus abides in that truth as her very life. In other words, the lines of the pie chart disappear, and worship covers the full circle. Free women respond with worship in everything. It is a natural outpouring of thankfulness and awareness of love and grace and truth. It isn't mustered up; it flows out.
We breathe in air and breathe out worship. We receive love and extend worship. We embrace children, offering worship. We comfort, we laugh, we mourn, we dance, we read, we dream, we exist - all worship. We pay the bills, we run on the treadmill, we enjoy a good movie, we make dinner, we welcome friends with open arms - worship, all worship. We send money and offer prayer and sit with a lonely neighbor, in Jesus' name. We wait for love, we long for home, we pour out our heart and hopes and fears and longing; we create with words and photos and colors and food, all beautiful acts of worship.
But we don't call it that.
We call those things living. But when the Spirit of the living God lives inside of you, then your living is also your worship. What else would it be? (Emily Freeman, "Grace for the Good Girl")
It shouldn't have been rocket science, I know - that the source of true worship is God's Spirit living in me, not the things I do.
Sometimes it's the simplest of truths that can be the most revolutionary -
Grace means the whole of my living really can be worship.
There were times when my family would be watching Jeopardy and I'd be pacing the length of the backyard with a copy of Psalm 119 or the Sermon on the Mount. I wish that was just a bad joke, but it's the truth. I thought God was pleased with my evident holiness. I thought He smiled bigger on me because I was memorizing His Word while they were watching TV.
But there was this problem...I mean, if I'd read two chapters, I knew I could have always read two more. If I'd worked on my memorization for an hour, I could have worked for longer.
It was never enough. I desperately longed to worship God with my whole life, but what I thought that meant was almost impossible. So I cried when no one was watching, and put on my long-faced I've-got-it-all-together-and-I'm-so-holy look when everyone was watching. God felt distant. Up there. Not here. Not with me. I thought His attitude towards me was as changing as the level of my performance.
One day I discovered someone had put words to the struggle I'd experienced for so long - and then went on to share words of life and hope and freedom.
When you're used to wearing a mask, you are comfortable with compartmentalizing life. Mask-wearing good girls put worship in a slivered-up pie chart, dividing our lives into segments of importance. We assign percentages for work, service, prayer, school, exercise, PTA, meal planning, bill paying, dog walking, toilet cleaning, church, and rest (if we're lucky). But the woman who has freely received the abundance of truth from Jesus abides in that truth as her very life. In other words, the lines of the pie chart disappear, and worship covers the full circle. Free women respond with worship in everything. It is a natural outpouring of thankfulness and awareness of love and grace and truth. It isn't mustered up; it flows out.
We breathe in air and breathe out worship. We receive love and extend worship. We embrace children, offering worship. We comfort, we laugh, we mourn, we dance, we read, we dream, we exist - all worship. We pay the bills, we run on the treadmill, we enjoy a good movie, we make dinner, we welcome friends with open arms - worship, all worship. We send money and offer prayer and sit with a lonely neighbor, in Jesus' name. We wait for love, we long for home, we pour out our heart and hopes and fears and longing; we create with words and photos and colors and food, all beautiful acts of worship.
But we don't call it that.
We call those things living. But when the Spirit of the living God lives inside of you, then your living is also your worship. What else would it be? (Emily Freeman, "Grace for the Good Girl")
It shouldn't have been rocket science, I know - that the source of true worship is God's Spirit living in me, not the things I do.
Sometimes it's the simplest of truths that can be the most revolutionary -
Grace means the whole of my living really can be worship.
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
Celebration: {Day 7} For Living
Grace has so many wonderful aspects, but I think one of my favorites is this: It's for everyday living. It makes a difference in everyday living.
Not just in quiet time or telling people about Jesus or memorizing Scripture (although it certainly can include those things).
Things like writing emails, exercising, shopping, planning for the day, studying, going to bed.
I'll unpack that a little more with a few examples.
I look back on some emails I wrote five years ago and think, My goodness, I tried so hard to sound so spiritual. And it was so fake and pointless. God isn't honored because I sound like I swallowed Strong's Concordance and can spit out a verse for any given situation, or because I can list off a dozen ways I'm occupied "serving Him". He's honored when my living, breathing relationship with Him spills out in laughter and sympathy and care. When I share the little things (not just the big things) with thankfulness. When I ask about my friend's day. When I truly hurt with those who are hurting, not just slap a bunch of verses on the situation. When I live from the abundance of the grace He has given me.
My attitude about shopping has changed. I realize now that it's okay if I can't find everything on my list (seriously, you have no idea how much this used to stress me out!). It's okay if I get that brand that costs fifty cents more because I didn't know the other store had it for less. I don't have to find the best outfit, the cheapest cut of meat, the perfect backpack. It's okay I forget something. Or buy something that wasn't on the list. God isn't frowning in disapproval over those things. His grace tames the edges of my frantic perfectionism.
I'll admit that I still hate leaving a to-do list unfinished at the end of the day, but at least I've gotten to the point where I don't feel like an utter failure every time that happens. God's love is in no way dependent on what I do or don't do. With His help, I can do what I need to do, but if I don't meet a goal, grace gives me the permission to move on. Tomorrow is a new day. And that's incredibly freeing!
Basically, it boils down to the fact that perfectionism and grace can't really coexist. Perfectionism focuses on me and my efforts (which results in pride and discouragement alternately). Grace lifts my eyes up to Jesus, my Perfect Hero, and lets me live the abundant life He came to give me.
How has grace made a difference in your everyday living?
Not just in quiet time or telling people about Jesus or memorizing Scripture (although it certainly can include those things).
Things like writing emails, exercising, shopping, planning for the day, studying, going to bed.
I'll unpack that a little more with a few examples.
I look back on some emails I wrote five years ago and think, My goodness, I tried so hard to sound so spiritual. And it was so fake and pointless. God isn't honored because I sound like I swallowed Strong's Concordance and can spit out a verse for any given situation, or because I can list off a dozen ways I'm occupied "serving Him". He's honored when my living, breathing relationship with Him spills out in laughter and sympathy and care. When I share the little things (not just the big things) with thankfulness. When I ask about my friend's day. When I truly hurt with those who are hurting, not just slap a bunch of verses on the situation. When I live from the abundance of the grace He has given me.
My attitude about shopping has changed. I realize now that it's okay if I can't find everything on my list (seriously, you have no idea how much this used to stress me out!). It's okay if I get that brand that costs fifty cents more because I didn't know the other store had it for less. I don't have to find the best outfit, the cheapest cut of meat, the perfect backpack. It's okay I forget something. Or buy something that wasn't on the list. God isn't frowning in disapproval over those things. His grace tames the edges of my frantic perfectionism.
I'll admit that I still hate leaving a to-do list unfinished at the end of the day, but at least I've gotten to the point where I don't feel like an utter failure every time that happens. God's love is in no way dependent on what I do or don't do. With His help, I can do what I need to do, but if I don't meet a goal, grace gives me the permission to move on. Tomorrow is a new day. And that's incredibly freeing!
Basically, it boils down to the fact that perfectionism and grace can't really coexist. Perfectionism focuses on me and my efforts (which results in pride and discouragement alternately). Grace lifts my eyes up to Jesus, my Perfect Hero, and lets me live the abundant life He came to give me.
How has grace made a difference in your everyday living?
Monday, October 6, 2014
Celebration: {Day 6} Jessica's Story
We have an abundant God! He doesn't necessarily answer every prayer for provision the way we expect, but He is capable of so much more than we often give Him credit for. Jessica tells her experience of abundant grace.
- - -
I'm halfway through Children's Ministries Institute (with Child Evangelism Fellowship) right now, and didn't even know I was coming until about four months ago. I'd thought about it over a year ago, but kind of decided it wasn't for me. But this summer, several people encouraged me to go, and told me there was a half scholarship for this fall session. I realized I really didn't have a good reason not to go, so I applied, telling God, "I'll go if You want me to, but You'll have to give me the money." Even with the scholarship, there was no way I could afford it -- my summer was already committed to ministry, so I couldn't possibly earn the money. Before I knew whether I was accepted, I met a CEF missionary from East Africa who's been a legend to me since I was a child, and she encouraged me and prayed with me for God's direction and provision. I had been thinking about being a translator since May, but didn't really know what that meant or which language to study. When I heard from her that one of the biggest things slowing down ministry was translation of materials into Amharic (spoken in Ethiopia . . . and by my dear Ethiopian aunt), everything clicked. But I still didn't have money. I got accepted and wrote some support letters, and it started coming in, slowly but steadily. Finally, the Sunday before I was to leave, I was fully funded. But that wasn't all -- the day I left, my quiet 15-year-old brother handed me an envelope with over $1,300 that he had raised for me! Since then, others have continued to give, and I actually have ended up with about double what I needed for CMI -- I wouldn't even have needed the scholarship. God has taught me so much about His ability to provide beyond my wildest dreams, and completely changed my attitude about support-raising for full-time missions. I'm excited to see what He will do with me!
Jessica S.
- - -
I'm halfway through Children's Ministries Institute (with Child Evangelism Fellowship) right now, and didn't even know I was coming until about four months ago. I'd thought about it over a year ago, but kind of decided it wasn't for me. But this summer, several people encouraged me to go, and told me there was a half scholarship for this fall session. I realized I really didn't have a good reason not to go, so I applied, telling God, "I'll go if You want me to, but You'll have to give me the money." Even with the scholarship, there was no way I could afford it -- my summer was already committed to ministry, so I couldn't possibly earn the money. Before I knew whether I was accepted, I met a CEF missionary from East Africa who's been a legend to me since I was a child, and she encouraged me and prayed with me for God's direction and provision. I had been thinking about being a translator since May, but didn't really know what that meant or which language to study. When I heard from her that one of the biggest things slowing down ministry was translation of materials into Amharic (spoken in Ethiopia . . . and by my dear Ethiopian aunt), everything clicked. But I still didn't have money. I got accepted and wrote some support letters, and it started coming in, slowly but steadily. Finally, the Sunday before I was to leave, I was fully funded. But that wasn't all -- the day I left, my quiet 15-year-old brother handed me an envelope with over $1,300 that he had raised for me! Since then, others have continued to give, and I actually have ended up with about double what I needed for CMI -- I wouldn't even have needed the scholarship. God has taught me so much about His ability to provide beyond my wildest dreams, and completely changed my attitude about support-raising for full-time missions. I'm excited to see what He will do with me!
Jessica S.
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Celebration: {Day 5} For the Pharisees
When you choose to live the grace-life, there will inevitably be people who stand on the side-lines. They'll shake their heads. Cross their arms. Frown disapprovingly. Whisper behind your back (or maybe say things to your face).
You may wonder how people who claim to love and follow God could be so opposed to His gift.
I guess because if grace is really true, we don't have a measuring stick to judge each other (or ourselves) by. Grace leaves no room for pride. Rule-keeping feeds our pride, and who of anyone of us does not have a proud heart by nature? Grace is also messy and uncomfortable. Rules, on the other hand, are predictable and keeping them gives us a sense of being in control.
Still, when you know the freedom and joy that grace brings, you can't help but be saddened at the sheer intensity that resistance can take.
But there is hope for the most resistant, the staunchest of Pharisees. Grace can win their hearts, too.
How do I know?
I know because of Paul's story. Pharisee of Pharisees, he called himself. Meticulous keeper of the Law. Zealous to the point of personally seeking out and arresting those who lived the grace-life. But God shattered the proud shell around Paul's heart. He became an outspoken proclaimer of this grace.
And I know because of my own story. I was a Pharisee, a side-line head-shaker, a frowning arm-crosser for years. But grace could conquer even me.
It did conquer me.
It turned my world upside down.
It ushered me into a completely different relationship with my Heavenly Father.
And it gives me something to celebrate for the rest of my days.
You may wonder how people who claim to love and follow God could be so opposed to His gift.
I guess because if grace is really true, we don't have a measuring stick to judge each other (or ourselves) by. Grace leaves no room for pride. Rule-keeping feeds our pride, and who of anyone of us does not have a proud heart by nature? Grace is also messy and uncomfortable. Rules, on the other hand, are predictable and keeping them gives us a sense of being in control.
Still, when you know the freedom and joy that grace brings, you can't help but be saddened at the sheer intensity that resistance can take.
But there is hope for the most resistant, the staunchest of Pharisees. Grace can win their hearts, too.
How do I know?
I know because of Paul's story. Pharisee of Pharisees, he called himself. Meticulous keeper of the Law. Zealous to the point of personally seeking out and arresting those who lived the grace-life. But God shattered the proud shell around Paul's heart. He became an outspoken proclaimer of this grace.
And I know because of my own story. I was a Pharisee, a side-line head-shaker, a frowning arm-crosser for years. But grace could conquer even me.
It did conquer me.
It turned my world upside down.
It ushered me into a completely different relationship with my Heavenly Father.
And it gives me something to celebrate for the rest of my days.
Saturday, October 4, 2014
Celebration: {Day 4} Jehovah Jireh
Jehovah Jireh. The God who provides - everything I need, all of it undeserved, all of it grace.
He provides each day in so many ways, but I'd like to share a few examples that stand out in my mind.
There was the time back in training... Some new friends - also missionaries - dropped me off at my place after a nice meal together (and loading me with "goodies"/leftovers to take home!). They got out of the car and hugged me good-bye, then the wife pressed something into my hand. I thanked her, of course, but in the darkness I couldn't see exactly what she'd given me. I assumed it was $20 or something. I got inside and to my amazement, it was...a $100 bill. $100! Just like that. Needless to say, I was overwhelmed.
There have been several times I've received a gift of support from complete strangers... Like I've-never-heard-of-you-and-I've-never-even-been-to-that-state-before! My initial response was, "How is that possible? How could they have even heard of me?!" Jehovah Jireh just doesn't fit inside my little box.
There was the time when, after months of fruitless job hunting, the Lord gave me the idea to look into camps in the area. (Up until that time, I'd been looking mostly at office and retail type jobs.) I did, and narrowed it down to two places with positions still open. I called them both. Long story short, the second place offered me a position, and I got to work with an incredibly fun group of people that summer! Sometimes the Lord provides in ways that we weren't initially expecting.
...And there are so many more stories I could share.
How about you? Do you have a story of His gracious (and perhaps unexpected) provision?
"And my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus." - Philippians 4:19
He provides each day in so many ways, but I'd like to share a few examples that stand out in my mind.
There was the time back in training... Some new friends - also missionaries - dropped me off at my place after a nice meal together (and loading me with "goodies"/leftovers to take home!). They got out of the car and hugged me good-bye, then the wife pressed something into my hand. I thanked her, of course, but in the darkness I couldn't see exactly what she'd given me. I assumed it was $20 or something. I got inside and to my amazement, it was...a $100 bill. $100! Just like that. Needless to say, I was overwhelmed.
There have been several times I've received a gift of support from complete strangers... Like I've-never-heard-of-you-and-I've-never-even-been-to-that-state-before! My initial response was, "How is that possible? How could they have even heard of me?!" Jehovah Jireh just doesn't fit inside my little box.
There was the time when, after months of fruitless job hunting, the Lord gave me the idea to look into camps in the area. (Up until that time, I'd been looking mostly at office and retail type jobs.) I did, and narrowed it down to two places with positions still open. I called them both. Long story short, the second place offered me a position, and I got to work with an incredibly fun group of people that summer! Sometimes the Lord provides in ways that we weren't initially expecting.
...And there are so many more stories I could share.
How about you? Do you have a story of His gracious (and perhaps unexpected) provision?
"And my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus." - Philippians 4:19
Friday, October 3, 2014
Celebration: {Day 3} Patty's Story
Not only does God delight to use imperfect people (which includes all of us!), sometimes those very imperfections are what invites others to open up to truth. Patty's story is an example of that.
- - -
I know I sometimes come off gruff, but only by HIS grace can I pull it off sometimes. Got a call from a young Marine's doctor who said, he didn't know what it was but the young man could and does respond to me. I know Lord you said we can comfort with the same comfort we've had, but it still takes your grace to soften an old toad like me. Grace, your favour towards me!
Thanks for sharing Patty - would you maybe like to elaborate on that story a bit more?
Maybe some specific examples of the comfort you've experienced that you were then able to share with him?
A young marine with PTSD was disappointed by a person he trusted. He was more disappointed by a person who told him they were a Christian, but then lied to him. About what I don't know. But I told him that man was not perfect and even Christians lied. I told him I lied. Sometimes I did it cause I didn't want the confrotation, but it didn't make it right. But I would not lie to him because I felt he needed to know the truth about anything he asked. I told him about my depression and how I hated when people lied to me when I was in a bout, otherwise, I could blow them off. It seem to relax him. He responded by saying - he couldn't believe that someone actually told him that Christians weren't perfect. I told him to take a long, hard look at me and see what a Christian looks like. Imperfect outside and inside. And yet God loved me beyond measure. I told him he could take on the liar and God wouldn't care, in fact, God would probably be glad His child was called on a lie. The young man finally felt like he would be able to close his eyes and get some sleep. Could have I had an honest conversation with him without God's grace? No, because I would be afraid I might say something that would send him over the edge, but God's favor on me led me to love this kid and be truthful.
This kid wouldn't talk to the hospital doctor or psychiatrist, he had met me at Kaiser with his Mom and had my number I'd given her for other reasons. They called one night and said, he needed someone to talk to and he wasn't talking except to me. He was suicidal.
Patty, thanks for your honesty here. We are following a perfect Savior, but we are by no means perfect followers, and I think it's so important to acknowledge that to others! We are no different, no better than anyone else, and God offers the same grace to every single person.
- - -
I know I sometimes come off gruff, but only by HIS grace can I pull it off sometimes. Got a call from a young Marine's doctor who said, he didn't know what it was but the young man could and does respond to me. I know Lord you said we can comfort with the same comfort we've had, but it still takes your grace to soften an old toad like me. Grace, your favour towards me!
Thanks for sharing Patty - would you maybe like to elaborate on that story a bit more?
Maybe some specific examples of the comfort you've experienced that you were then able to share with him?
A young marine with PTSD was disappointed by a person he trusted. He was more disappointed by a person who told him they were a Christian, but then lied to him. About what I don't know. But I told him that man was not perfect and even Christians lied. I told him I lied. Sometimes I did it cause I didn't want the confrotation, but it didn't make it right. But I would not lie to him because I felt he needed to know the truth about anything he asked. I told him about my depression and how I hated when people lied to me when I was in a bout, otherwise, I could blow them off. It seem to relax him. He responded by saying - he couldn't believe that someone actually told him that Christians weren't perfect. I told him to take a long, hard look at me and see what a Christian looks like. Imperfect outside and inside. And yet God loved me beyond measure. I told him he could take on the liar and God wouldn't care, in fact, God would probably be glad His child was called on a lie. The young man finally felt like he would be able to close his eyes and get some sleep. Could have I had an honest conversation with him without God's grace? No, because I would be afraid I might say something that would send him over the edge, but God's favor on me led me to love this kid and be truthful.
This kid wouldn't talk to the hospital doctor or psychiatrist, he had met me at Kaiser with his Mom and had my number I'd given her for other reasons. They called one night and said, he needed someone to talk to and he wasn't talking except to me. He was suicidal.
Patty, thanks for your honesty here. We are following a perfect Savior, but we are by no means perfect followers, and I think it's so important to acknowledge that to others! We are no different, no better than anyone else, and God offers the same grace to every single person.
Thursday, October 2, 2014
Celebration: {Day 2} Sherry's Story
I'm excited to share Sherry's story with you today. Her love for God just leaps off the screen!
- - -
In the words of a famous Jewish man: "Where it began I can't begin to know, but then I know it's growing strong".
Raised in church I continually looked for love and acceptance. All through my teen years and most of my twenties; looking, looking, seeking - empty and lonely. I only knew OF and ABOUT Jesus. Then one day, almost thirty, I truly met Him, received Him for my very own Savior, Redeemer, and Life. My Shepherd, Lord, and King. God in me, Immanuel. Like a child, I crawled up into His lap every night and lavished in His love, acceptance, safety and comfort. I began to grow, I studied His Word, and started to change.
I remember one morning as I read Colossians 2:14, seeing all the Law that kept me in condemnation nailed to the cross of Christ. I saw the hammer nailing the written rules against me as in a vision. Free! Free indeed! Another truth received in my heart! There is a difference between knowing God's Word and receiving it! Just as receiving Jesus as our Savior, we must receive His truths. We cannot work for it, just receive it from a loving, kind, merciful God and Father. It is a gift! The only thing we should work for is to enter into His rest. At this moment I had received more Light!
The Lord gave me a thought once: He showed me that receiving Him and revelations of Him were sometimes like one standing in total darkness for a period and then turning on an intense light. Your pupils adjust to receive a smaller amount of light and gradually open as it adapts to the brilliance. Amazing! I now continue to receive more Light as I adjust, adapt, and grow in Christ. Sometimes I blink, closing off the Light. This causes me to stumble, fall, or miss the mark. But, this is only a blink and our loving God encourages me through the Holy Spirit to rise up and grow on. "He who began a good work in me will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ." (Philippians 1:6)
This life is all about Jesus, all about the love of our God, all about His freely given favor and mercy, all about His righteousness. It is Christ in us, our hope of glory! It is revealing Christ in us to all.
I praise God for His loving kindness, mercy, and grace!
Now I enjoy God's Word, I pray to know Him more and more. He is so vast I may never in this life see Him fully. I know that I am perfect in Him, blameless, spotless, child of God. Nothing I can do, no self effort, no work, will increase God's love and favor for me. When I error, I know I am the Righteousness of God in Christ. His love covers me. My love for Him causes me to want to walk uprightly, to forgive myself when I fail, and to continue in His life. I rest in that Christ said, "It is finished." I am redeemed now, today. He came to give us "abundant life", life in Christ. Outside of Him there is NO life. If I could walk perfect continually, there would have been no reason for God to send His beloved Son to suffer and die for me. When I do miss the mark I remember, "Nothing can separate me from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus".
Sherry S.
- - -
In the words of a famous Jewish man: "Where it began I can't begin to know, but then I know it's growing strong".
Raised in church I continually looked for love and acceptance. All through my teen years and most of my twenties; looking, looking, seeking - empty and lonely. I only knew OF and ABOUT Jesus. Then one day, almost thirty, I truly met Him, received Him for my very own Savior, Redeemer, and Life. My Shepherd, Lord, and King. God in me, Immanuel. Like a child, I crawled up into His lap every night and lavished in His love, acceptance, safety and comfort. I began to grow, I studied His Word, and started to change.
I remember one morning as I read Colossians 2:14, seeing all the Law that kept me in condemnation nailed to the cross of Christ. I saw the hammer nailing the written rules against me as in a vision. Free! Free indeed! Another truth received in my heart! There is a difference between knowing God's Word and receiving it! Just as receiving Jesus as our Savior, we must receive His truths. We cannot work for it, just receive it from a loving, kind, merciful God and Father. It is a gift! The only thing we should work for is to enter into His rest. At this moment I had received more Light!
The Lord gave me a thought once: He showed me that receiving Him and revelations of Him were sometimes like one standing in total darkness for a period and then turning on an intense light. Your pupils adjust to receive a smaller amount of light and gradually open as it adapts to the brilliance. Amazing! I now continue to receive more Light as I adjust, adapt, and grow in Christ. Sometimes I blink, closing off the Light. This causes me to stumble, fall, or miss the mark. But, this is only a blink and our loving God encourages me through the Holy Spirit to rise up and grow on. "He who began a good work in me will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ." (Philippians 1:6)
This life is all about Jesus, all about the love of our God, all about His freely given favor and mercy, all about His righteousness. It is Christ in us, our hope of glory! It is revealing Christ in us to all.
I praise God for His loving kindness, mercy, and grace!
Now I enjoy God's Word, I pray to know Him more and more. He is so vast I may never in this life see Him fully. I know that I am perfect in Him, blameless, spotless, child of God. Nothing I can do, no self effort, no work, will increase God's love and favor for me. When I error, I know I am the Righteousness of God in Christ. His love covers me. My love for Him causes me to want to walk uprightly, to forgive myself when I fail, and to continue in His life. I rest in that Christ said, "It is finished." I am redeemed now, today. He came to give us "abundant life", life in Christ. Outside of Him there is NO life. If I could walk perfect continually, there would have been no reason for God to send His beloved Son to suffer and die for me. When I do miss the mark I remember, "Nothing can separate me from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus".
Sherry S.
Wednesday, October 1, 2014
Celebration: {Day 1} When Grace Shows Up
I really should have been on my way to church by that time, but instead I was sobbing at the kitchen table and looking at prices for tickets. I could be home by Thursday.
Eventually I went to church, slipping in the back row and trying to remain inconspicuous. (What a joke!) I was exhausted, which meant that my French (both understanding and speaking) were worse than usual. I felt hopelessly lost and out of place. Locking myself in the church restroom crossed my mind a few times.
Of all the days she could have showed up, that was the day. Her name was Grace, and she was a reflection of exactly that.
In the hubbub of voices I couldn't follow, she was there, quiet and undemanding. She sat with me during the lunch meeting. After it was over, we got on the bus together. When I handed her my change for the fare, she pressed it back into my hand and told me not to worry about it.
She came all the way to my apartment with me. I invited her in and we sat in my living room, barely able to have a conversation. She told me she was a singer touring from another West African country. So she sang for me. I'm not sure what inspired her to pick the song she did, but she sang about God being on His throne. That's all I remember of the song. Of course she had no idea of the inner struggle I was experiencing, but God did, and He wanted me to rest in His sovereignty.
It was an unlikely friendship, one that still makes me smile to think of. I mean, she was visiting from another country and "just happened" to show up at the church I was at. And in spite of my halting French, she wanted to be my friend.
She stayed in the city for a few months, recording for an album. We had lunch together a few times and she usually accompanied me home after church (she was staying not too far from me). She'd call me from time to time, just to see how I was doing.
Sometimes we'd be sitting together, silently enjoying the company, and she'd say, "Rachel, God is good. He's so, so good." I'd smile back because I had nothing to say, and because I needed to just let that truth sink into my soul.
It really was like God's grace - unexpected, quiet, there. There in my need. There when I felt alone. There to remind me of truth.
The day came when she told me she'd be going back. We prayed together in the church kitchen and I walked with her out to the bus stop.
I haven't heard from her since, but I'll always think of her as a sweet gift God decided to surprise me with that day in February.
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