Second Chances and the wonder of Grace

Anger reared it's head as quiet gentleness bent it's head. Control was fleeting as infuriation blinded all love and compassion. 

There are days when we lose control, and either we can't regain our composure, or we simply won't. This sinful nature, these ugly displays of emotion, they try to get a hold on me - to squeeze out His love and render useless this amazing freedom. My heart begins to boil, my hands clench. And worst of all, I despise it. I despise these hands, this heart, this world.

Soft and gentle, these words play. Hands to ears I try to shut it out, for I despise the gentle love. I count it worthless. But it coaxes me, and I can not resist. Blinded by my failure and fury, this unrestrained grace breaks down the walls and renders my anger useless. I am relieved.

I can not give grace when I can not receive it. I can not be full of love, when my heart does not know it. I can not be full of joy unless I know the joy giver. I can not give forgiveness, when I refuse to except it.

Everything I try to be, everything I try to give - without excepting it, embracing it, knowing it - I can not give it. If I try to keep giving these things, I will run empty. And all that is left is the anger and hatred and cruelty. These things are what I am apart from the One who gives all good things. Apart from Him, nothing is good.

Tears of release as I listen to song after song - these songs, they are love songs of my Savior. And I listen to each word, and I hear the heart of Love. And I'm reminded that I am a child of the One True King. And it stuns me silent I am told that the past does not matter - that it's forgiven. And I ask, is not one minute ago the past?  Anything done or experienced...that is past.

I see my slate - the one that is wiped clean. And I see these clothes white as snow. Bewildered, my eyes fill again with tears. And the only one to see is God, and I leave my sunglasses in place as I cope with this new reality. This overwhelming grace. I know the anger and I know my failings. I know all the things I should have done differently. And I accept his yoke...

Matthew 11:29 "Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls."

The sun warms my face as He warms my heart. The spirit has whispered to my heart, and it begins to heal.

I drive home, listening to song after song repeating the same messages. God is love and forgiveness. I am wanted and I am loved. And he is enough, no matter what I've done in my long ago past or in my moment ago failures.

At home I'm met by two wiggling dogs with open paws, gentle eyes, and loving hearts.

I shake my head in wonder as I write my 100th gift.

100. Second Chances

Accepting His Forgiveness

Life continues on and on, and my heart becomes more and more numb to God. And I see this truth, that Christ died for all transgressions, and isn't his heart full of grace? My mind says yes, but my life says no.

Those little sins, and even those things we call "nothing" those are what make my heart numb. Because not only do I refuse to label them, I refuse to receive God's grace regarding them. And aren't  I disbelieving in his goodness and love when I reject his forgiveness? I swallow hard, and blink eyes and try to take it in. In not coming to Christ and excepting and even embracing his love, I am throwing the cross, his love, his grace, his goodness....I'm throwing it all in his face and saying an emphatic "no!"

No to his love? Why would anyone do that, especially a Christian? Especially a Christian....This is the story of mankind, and why did I think I was immune? We throw it away because it's far too good to be true! It's far too good to be true that I can make a bad choice, and then turn to God and throw myself at his feet and still feel his grace. He still loves me in the moment of my sin...

Romans 5:8  - But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

While we were still sinning, and throwing it in his face, and yelling and screaming at him, and living out our "no", that's when he showed just how much he loves us...that's when he poured out his love on the cross and did the unimaginable. 

But I still struggle, because with a numb heart how do I know when I throw it at him? And I see my journal laying there untouched...the one I write my own One Thousand Gifts in, just like Ann Voskamp. And it lies there closed, and I don't even know when I last took time to write in it. And I know it's not just about writing it down, it's about actually thanking God...but without the physical act, the heart act has failed.

I struggle and fight this mundane life, this life full of mistakes. And I refuse to believe Christ doesn't care about the moments of my life. And doesn't he give me each breath, so how could he not care about them? I refuse to give the Devil a strong hold in my life, and isn't his goal to make me not trust in God's goodness....just like Adam and Eve fell for his lies, the devil wants me too to believe his lies, to refuse to trust in God's goodness.

And it's an every day battle, to keep trusting in God's love, to keep giving thanks, to fall into God's arm's each day. And with His kind of love, what do I really have to fear?

And I want to live out a "yes" to God in my life. So I remember his love and I accept his grace. I accept that I really am forgiven, treasured, wanted, and loved. And I see hope replace my numbness.

Hearts vulnerable and Living Free

My mind goes wild, and my heart beats wild too. My heart cries out silently to the Christians all around. And I wish that it weren't silent. If only it were like the shot heard around the world...

Listen to me cry out, hear my words. We are falling apart. We are being deceived. We are an immobilized people. We sit in our beautiful church buildings and we smile and sing and listen and make commitments to change. And there we sit, doing nothing. We go home, back to our jobs, our lives, our homes. We go back with a focus to change ourselves.

I see it in the mirror, this need to change self. To gain more control of desires, to learn to be better. This self discipline, it wears on me.  I throw it out the window, refuse to look in the mirror. I sit and block it out. And I am dead in spirit and alive in body. And why would I want this and how do I get the strength to change?

I run through the gospels, my mind brushing fingers across memory. I want to feel it, to see it. And in my mind's eye, I do. I see Christ and I see service. I see dirt and filthy sandals and hands washing away grime. I see wet hair with dirt and leaves and accepting eyes. I see hands letting go of stones and words being written in sand. I see fishing nets and knives cutting away and cleaning. I see arms around children, and food in hand with grins across faces.

I see service.

What I see is a Christ who came to live. Came to live among us, and isn't his name Emmanuel? And wasn't that one of the first names we knew him by? God with us. God living among us. Not sitting teaching for hours, not home working on self discipline. No, this man, this Christ, this holy one sent to save us - he came to go and serve.

And I see it clear. All this sitting around, this trying to find the strength to change. And is this really what Christ modeled for us or is this what we've imagined for ourselves? And am I afraid to dig my hands into dirt, and lift the battered off the ground, and wrap my arms around the filthy and unclean. And am I really afraid to live Christ. Because what was it? What was this living that he did other than a drink offering? And am I really ready to be pored out? To be emptied of myself and filled with God? And his sacrifice was so great, can I also sacrifice like that?

I am afraid. I am afraid of what He will ask, and will I be strong enough? I am broken and battered and dirty and unclean; and how do I lift others up when I can not even rise to my own feet. I try and I fail and I am a mess. And I see the faces of family around me, and I can not help them. So we all stay on the ground beaten and bruised and together we moan. And I just sit there.

What is it about this giving away that so scares me? I am comfortable. Comfortable in this discomfort. And I refuse to really see it because I hide in this crazy life. And like a blanket covers my face and I am blind, I allow this comfort to cover this broken heart and the light doesn't touch it. And if this light, this truth, if it does not touch it, my eyes will remain comfortable. The burning light, how do I allow the pain of opening my eyes, and is it really worth it?

I nod yes slow. I look into the eyes of true comfort. I look into Christ's love eyes. And I slowly begin to release my hold on this comfort blanket. And he takes my hands slow, holds my heart and I try to keep breathing. I feel vulnerable, and it will not end with this uncovering. But I was never meant to live comfortable and safe, I was meant to live surrendered and free and vulnerable.

I struggle, and try to grab the blanket again, and he coaxes me quietly. I know that voice, and I trust. And I know that this releasing will only happen one little step at a time. But I am afraid and unafraid at the same time. I know my Jesus, I know that he is my comfort. I feel his love rain down. I want this surrender, and I want this living free. Free to live as Christ, to serve.

  And I open my heart to the fear, because a fearful vulnerable heart that is unafraid and protected because of Christ....That is a heart that is ready to live life surrendered. 

The Hard Gifts

I give up before I even open my eyes. The puppy cries. My heart cries too. How did life become all about surviving? And is it truly life when that's all I do?

The heart feels limp, limp as my wet hair after standing in water coming down. I hope it will wash away these feelings...but I'm not sure what these feelings are. Perhaps the walking dead? I feel dead and I wonder why these lungs keep breathing in and out. And some days I wish they wouldn't.

And I ask, why does God still care when my heart is so broken? Why does he want to pick up the pieces again, and does he really? And why can't I trust? And then I begin to remember.

I take a breath and practice...practice. I practice looking at the past, at remembering what God has done. And I see a little blond girl playing games outside, and digging in flower beds, and seeing all the flowers believing that she really did make them grow. And I see a face of trust. Where did that child bliss go? And do we really have to let it go or is it choice?

And I remember to give thanks for the past and the present. I see how easy it was to give thanks, because God seemed in control and I had nothing to fear. And I gave thanks for the ants and the flowers and the cold water on the counter. Trust - just complete trust. Childhood bliss was just trust? And I shake my head and a smile forms. I know how to learn to trust again, and is it really as easy as giving thanks? Can I have that bliss again?

So I count -
82 - Broken guitar strings and forgotten foot stools
83 - Shadows playing on the blinds and on guitar strings
84 - dusty pianos

I thank God for his blessings, and is he really a good God who loves me? And the more I count all as grace - as blessing - the more I see as gift and only a good God can give good gifts.

And what of the hard things in life? I sit back into the past, the table at the bookstore, Mom and Dad enjoying a muffin together. A smile turns my lips. And the question about the what ifs. What if something happens. What if we don't get the jobs we want and what if we loose what we have. And we know to keep trusting. Keep trusting because hasn't God provided already? And why would he stop?

But what about those circumstances, and how to make sense of the going ons.  And he's still good even if they're not? No, I shake my head. And I speak it, more to myself because I'm the one in need of hearing these truths. These things - the breaking and hurting and struggling - they are not just allowed to happen. They are gift. They are blessing. And I try to count them not just on paper but on the tablet of my heart. Because everything that happens is simply preparing us to be more like Jesus. More like Love himself. And who wants anything else but to be made whole? And so I thank him one thing at a time. For the hard and the easy, the ugly and the beautiful. And nothing ever falls outside the label of grace blessings.

I look around at the mess and say "blessing" (85). The calender has a sticky note with work hours on it. I don't feel the energy today. But still I say it quiet. "grace" (86). The weeds grow and I sit and I am lazy. And still I look to God and say "this is grace"(87) . The floor has just dried, and I wish that puppies knew to go outside..."blessing"(88). One at a time I count. And I say a prayer of thanks as I write them.

This love of God shown through his blessings...just as in salvation we accepted it, still each day we grow in our salvation by seeing his blessings and grace and naming them. And only when we name them as gift will we begin to live as though they are gift.

Hearts open

My heart opens out and up, and I glimpse the wonder of God working in my life and the lives of others.

Why do we hurt? Why do we get bitter? I've been learning, and I've been giving thanks. Giving thanks to God helps us to trust God. We thank him for what he is doing and what he has done, and seeing all of his mighty works in the past gives us a hope for more mighty works in the future. So I thank him for the hard, the painful, the bitter. And I open my heart to Him and to what he's doing.

Hearts with complete trust in God are soft hearts, because hearts that trust in him have the Spirit's heart beating with their own. And it's in this syncing of heart beats that we come to life.

And it's the failure to sync that kills our hearts. It's the failure to keep trusting the Lord that causes us to fall apart. I take a breath, and see distrust in my own face. A distrust that He really can work out everything for my good. A distrust in his plan...and instead of falling into myself, I try to allow my heart to fall out to God and to others.

I don't like being vulnerable, and living with an open heart is the last thing that comes naturally. If I shut off my heart and refuse to allow anything to phase it, my heart feels protected. But that's when bitterness and pain creep up on me. And I fail to see them, or if I do, I refuse to stop them.

Living in freedom, living fully, is about allowing God to work in and through you by reaching out to others, and most importantly, up to God. When I trust God to live through me, and to heal the brokenness inside of me, I can open up to others. It's not about me. It's about God. And so I have nothing to fear in living with this heart that is open.

It hurts. It hurts to live open to the people around you and allow them to see you. But in some ways, it's a good pain. But only when you're allowing God to shine through. On my own I am dirty and ugly. I am the undesirable leper who becomes beautiful when He heals me. When my heart trusts in him, I am healed. And isn't it in my weakness and brokenness that God's greatness comes through? My bitterness turns to love. My hurt becomes my understanding and compassion. In the hands of the Almighty, every thing in me, and everything that has happened to me, turns out to be a blessing to me and to others. And I am beautiful. 

And it's in loosing control of this crazy heart that I learn that God is already in control. And I realize that controlling these emotions is simply a distrust that God can work through them. And without them, I feel dead. And I know that with the pain, it's o.k. to cry out with God and say "My God, why have you forsaken me?" But instead of asking I push away. And wasn't that what the thief did? Was not distrust on his breath. And the other man? Wasn't it the question on his lips that brought him to God?

And I ask "why?" and his all consuming love comes and soothes the breaks, and he puts me back together. And then I see it clear - to trust in the Lord with all of my heart is what will make me whole. And thanksgiving is how I learn to trust. And I continue to write my own one thousand gifts. And I already see the change.

I give thanks constantly, and I learn to accept all things as grace. And my heart begins to come back to life.

Thankfulness.

Thanksgiving - we are to be filled with it. And I know this. I know that Christians are constantly told to be thankful, and aren't we as children taught to always thank? And aren't we taught to thank after what has been done, and never expected to thank when told "no"? And is this really the right way or is it the world's view? Thankfulness when getting what we want, and anger when we don't? And we think we're entitled, and didn't Adam and Eve do the same?

I look to scripture for this, for a picture of what it's like to give thanks. And I drop my eyes and my heart grows weary. We've been taught the wrong way all along.

To give thanks - what does it mean? I read the words of Ann Voskamp and I try to grasp it. That we are entitled to nothing and that all is grace. And that when all is grace, we can give thanks for everything. And we must look at the world through his lenses - and we must be in awe and then thanks begins to form. But it takes looking. It takes acknowledging.

I start with the first people, in the beginning of Genesis. And I begin to see a trend through the entirety of scripture. In the beginning why did Eve sin? Instead of a heart full of thanksgiving for all of God's grace around her in the garden, her heart turned cold with thanklessness. She heard the whisper of the serpent, she heard him ask why God was with-holding something that belonged to her. Instead of Grace, rights consumed her.

I know that I would have fallen prey just like Eve. When I don't think I have enough, when I feel others are taking advantage of me or my time, when I don't see God as enough. That's when thanklessness creeps into my heart an inch at a time. And I didn't even know it, and now it claims my heart and squeezes out the light. And there's no release from this dark outlook on life and God unless I give thanks. And I don't want to give thanks. It seems meaningless. 

What does Romans say, and how much of myself can I see...

18 For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men who suppress the truth in unrighteousness, 19 because that which is known about God is evident within them; for God made it evident to them. 20 For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse. 21 For even though they knew God, they did not honor Him as God or give thanks, but they became futile in their speculations, and their foolish heart was darkened. 22 Professing to be wise, they became fools, 23 and exchanged the glory of the incorruptible God for an image in the form of corruptible man and of birds and four-footed animals and crawling creatures. 24 Therefore God gave them over in the lusts of their hearts to impurity, so that their bodies would be dishonored among them. 25 For they exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever. Amen.

And I read it slow and I read it again. And won't you really read it with your heart with me? I can put my name in for "they". And the Israelites share this in common with me. It's not that we don't see God. For even without his word, we see him at work in all of creation. And I refuse to honor him - I don't credit to him for everything around me. As though their are accidents. And not seeing him as the one who gives all these amazing gifts, I refuse to give thanks. My thanksgiving comes with our nation and at our feast we go around the table saying we are thankful for....I usually say my family. And is it that I struggle to come up with other things because I don't see other things as grace? And my thanks feels empty because it's not a part of the way I live and so it is not a part of my heart.

Throughout scripture, I see people suffer trials, and then come through with God at their side. And they have learned something more, or so they hope. And we all mistakes in this race, and we detest the hard hills when we feel we are running at too high altitudes and we can't breath for all the pain. But the truth is, we are getting stronger. We are seeing God in all his provision, and it helps us to give thanks as we feel a release from the struggle. And this thanksgiving is this fresh air and we feel alive. And I wonder if we gave thanks even during the climb, if our lungs would be full of God. And perhaps the run wouldn't be as hard. And we could actually finish well.

And Jesus shows me how to give thanks. And he shows me when. It's not after things have been resolved. Sometimes God wants us to give thanks, and then the resolve comes after.

41 So they removed the stone. Then Jesus raised His eyes, and said, "Father, I thank You that You have heard Me. 42 "I knew that You always hear Me; but because of the people standing around I said it, so that they may believe that You sent Me." 43 When He had said these things, He cried out with a loud voice, "Lazarus, come forth." 44 The man who had died came forth, bound hand and foot with wrappings, and his face was wrapped around with a cloth. Jesus said to them, "Unbind him, and let him go."

Jesus gave thanks before Lazarus came forth. And he gave thanks before he broke the bread and fed the thousands. And I only thank after? And perhaps it needs to be a thanks for God giving what's best, instead of thankfulness for answers we like. And can we teach this to our children? Teach them to live in a state of thankfulness for all things. For the vegetables on their plates, and the "no's" of life? Because a "no" simply means a yes to something better. 

We can only live the way we were created to when we start saying "no" to thanklessness, and when we choose to say no to the serpents lie.  When we thank God for everything around us, that is when we glorify him because that's when we see him for who he is - James 1:17  Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.

And isn't this truly surrender? Excepting everything as a gift and letting go and keeping our eyes on God, and giving thanks? 

Striving, surrendering, falling apart.

My mind gets caught on all the does and don'ts of Christianity...my Bible study book keeps telling me to work out my salvation. I want to hind under a pillow, to hide my face of shame and failure.

Philippians 2:12-18

¹² Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed—not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence—continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, ¹³ for it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose.
¹⁴ Do everything without grumbling or arguing, ¹⁵ so that you may become blameless and pure, “children of God without fault in a warped and crooked generation.” Then you will shine among them like stars in the sky ¹⁶ as you hold firmly to the word of life. And then I will be able to boast on the day of Christ that I did not run or labor in vain. ¹⁷ But even if I am being poured out like a drink offering on the sacrifice and service coming from your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you. ¹⁸ So you too should be glad and rejoice with me.

I lift up my head when I hear the words "children of God" I look up to God. 

I can not work out my own salvation...not on my own. I fail miserably every time I try. And from around me I can hear voices of Christians around the world yelling accusations.  They say I've not tried hard enough. That I have not submitted myself entirely. That I don't read my Bible enough....It's never enough. 

I remember the phrase that I repeat to my damaged heart by the hour - "look out and up" Look out to others and up to God. And as I do my perspective changes. Instead of hearing these accusations I hear desperate cries for help. Because these same people are just like me...they are falling apart and they need to know that God is the one who puts together the broken pieces. They yell because they see these faults in themselves. They cry out because not even these things are enough. And I know what they need - for God to be enough.

God is enough. He's enough to work in you and to save you. And my tired body gives up the fight. And his arms hold me up because I can not stand on my own. And that is when I read those verses again and say - obedience starts when you learn to give up the fight and allow God to fight for you. 

It's in that moment of complete failure that God says "just love me". And the greatest commandment to love rings true. "for it is God who works in you" and he will work to create a masterpiece when your heart is consumed with love because love breaks down barriers. And isn't that truly the problem? Isn't Paul telling us to allow God into every part of our lives. And isn't my greatest hurt surrounded by walls and isn't it soothed when God's love and mercy surround it.

And here stops the striving, because in God's love the walls are broken down. And I'm freed to live in complete freedom and obedience. And how could I grumble when my eyes are focused away from myself. And I begin to shine. I shine through the cracks of my brokenness and his love pours out because it can do nothing else. 

So I take the step of surrender, and I open my heart. This love consumes and I am whole.