Expect Grace

Little boy lying in the hay
You've become my whole world today
I'm overwhelmed

Frightened... amazed... I don't know what to say...

I didn't see this coming
I don't know what to do
I'm lost in trepidation
The thought of loving you...

Grace for today, grace for this moment
My gift from his heart, to trust what is God-sent
Every day I am given, his mercies are new
Each moment I draw breath, his promise proves true.

A purpose so much higher than me,
A promise we've waited ages to see
I'm overwhelmed...
I never would have thought -
Never could have imagined -
I don't know why
You chose me.

Grace for today, grace for this moment.
My gift from his heart, to trust what is God-sent
Every day I am given, his mercies are new
Each moment I draw breath, his promise proves true.

Little boy lying in the hay
You've become my whole world today.

For those of you that will be at church on Sunday morning, if the great snowstorm of 2010 doesn't hit first, I have an explanation.

I will try to explain Sunday before I sing this song, but standing on a platform I am feeble and weak-tongued and all so I will probably not make a whole lot of sense. Which is why I want to pour out all my thoughts so at least the two or three people that read this will understand what I'm saying.

Or four.

As long as I can remember, I have always felt a connection to Mary. When I read about her, I can see her. I can hear her thoughts.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that she was divine. I'm not saying she was perfect. Nor am I saying that I possess the goodness and faith she must have had to be the chosen mother of the Messiah. I'm just saying... I get her.

The Bible says that Mary "pondered all these things in her heart." She stored up every angelic visitation, every prophetic utterance that suddenly came to life in front of her eyes - within her own body even, and thought about it long and hard. I'm a ponderer as well. I take it all in, I process it, I roll it around in my brain over and over until I have taken all the sense I can from a thought before I set it on a shelf in case I have need of it again.

If this sounds insane and you want to recommend I see a psychiatrist... well that's why I don't typically share these things. Or maybe I do.

Mary had to know. She had to have had a clue to the future events, especially when crazy kings started trying to kill her baby boy and they had to escape to Egypt for safety. She knew that baby was destined for big things. Painful things. Excruciating events for a mother's heart to endure. She heard the warning. A sword would pierce her own side. Just as I felt my daughter's pain recently when someone she thought was her friend was cruel, just as I matched every tear she cried with my own, Mary would feel every lash of the whip, every thorn that tore her son's flesh, every ignorant, mocking voice from the crowd of people that had joined their voices with their ancestors through the ages and pleaded for a Savior.

So how did Mary cope, staring at that helpless, soft and warm little creature, all the while with hormones running rampant through her body, knowing that someday he would allow himself to be led to the altar of sacrifice and slaughtered like an innocent, silent lamb?

I suppose she had to handle the weight of that knowledge, every moment of terrible foreshadowing with the same God-given grace that we who know him live every day, every moment counting on. The Bible says that God will give us peace, peace that surpasses all human understanding and explanation. He promises this peace will come only in those moments we require it. In other words, he'll be there to hold us up in every moment he allows that could crush us without his help.

What he doesn't give us the grace for is worry. When we borrow trouble from tomorrow, when we play the "what ifs" over and over in our mind and start to tremble and buckle under the burden, God cannot give us grace to do what he warned us against. He won't enable our sin.

So Mary had to take one day, one moment at a time. She had to accept his grace, his peace, his mercy for the things he allowed, and trust that he would see her through the dark days ahead.

And so, if the little boy lying in the hay has become your whole world, as he has mine, expect resistance. Expect pain, ridicule, misunderstanding, and struggle.

But even more, expect grace.

OFF #6 - The Fun House Mirror

Tall. Short. Wide. Thin.

She turned, her mind’s eye critically sweeping over the reflection. A wall of mirrors, and none to tell her what the true representation might be.

“That one looks most like you.” Someone pointed at a peculiar looking mirror of waves. She saw her distorted face peer skeptically at the glass.

“No, it’s this one. Come here!” The scoff came from the other side of the odd, dark room. A room of wrong dimensions, of optical illusions. Nothing was real.

And everything was real.

She closed her eyes, unwilling to stare another moment at the images that mocked her from every angle. She didn’t want to know she was that ugly. She didn’t want to see the plain features ridiculed by the proportions of this nether world.

“If only there were a truth.” She closed her eyes tightly, swallowing back the lump of hopeless grief in her throat.

“There is.”

She didn’t dare open her eyes, because the masculine voice was beauty in audible form. The tone he carried was perfection, and now the hand on her shoulder was love defined by touch.

“Open your eyes.”

She shook her head stubbornly, capturing her torso with her arms in a gesture of refusal. Even as she did, she mourned the loss she would experience when she could no longer feel his essence close to her.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He answered her silent lament. “And I want you to open your eyes and look at the truth.”

She felt hot tears. “No! I’ve seen it! It’s ugly! It’s not worth looking at! Why should I trust you when I’ve seen the truth for myself?”

“You haven’t.” There was a smile in his words. She wanted to see that smile. More than anything she’d ever wanted. But she couldn’t.

“You haven’t seen the truth. And you should trust me because I love you. As you are. As you look in the mirror I will show you.”

It took several moments for his words to reach her heart and melt her unwillingness. But eventually she allowed her eyes to open slightly. She could see a mirror. And a woman in a beautiful white dress. A beautiful woman.

But it wasn’t the woman that made her open her eyes wide in wonder. Not even when she became orientated enough to realize that the woman was none but herself.

She couldn’t take her eyes off of him. She never wanted to, ever again.

Here was truth.

Look at Me Writing My Novel

I was writing my novel. Until I realized I had no idea what a "drill press operator" at a train station in 1940 would have done and so I had to head online to do a yahoo search. And what catches my eye on the news but this.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20101007/ap_on_re/us_rel_southern_baptists_yoga

I had a mixed reaction when I read this article. My first was probably a reverting to my childhood in Christian school where I continually heard about all the sins I was unknowingly offending God over that He was going to remember and hold against me. The second thought was more welcome. A God who would become like me and die for me and conquer death on top of it JUST SO he could be my Savior and friend - does not care if I wear yoga pants and breathe deeply. In fact, in those rare, quiet moments of meditation it's Jesus that comes to mind, so I'm pretty sure He's cool with it.

If you honestly can't do yoga without worshipping idols or chanting Buddha's name - well then maybe you should stay away from it. I've done yoga or yoga-inspired exercise before, and never once was I ever encouraged to renounce Christ and follow Satan.

Okay. I'm going back to writing my story now. Feel free to comment, whether your response is "He's right - we all must repent of our yoga-practicing!" or "Good grief, do you think you're overreacting to this a little bit, Blogger?" or "Amen, sister, preach it!"

I prefer the last one, just so you know.

I think there's going to be quite a few saints in glory looking down over this world after they've made their exit scratching their heads and marveling that Christianity has actually gone on fine without them. If Jesus doesn't return first, that is.

And no discussing what I meant by "looking down over this world" either.

The Way He Does It

My, my, I had quite a few interesting responses yesterday. Not too many "Oh, wow, me too" comments, though, so I feel a little like a moron. I guess it's time I accept the truth. It's liberating admitting your worst faults. A few said they weren't afraid of me. I should revisit the thought and clarify that it was more likely a fear of dealing with me than an awed, reverent sort of fear. A fear as in "Oh, no, here she comes and she's got that look on her face... run!"

Well, here I come and I have that look on my face.

Not really.

Today's the day I'm supposed to talk about spiritual matters. Something's been rolling in my brain the past few days and I have to let it out. Prepare for disjointed ideas that didn't even originate in my head.

We went to Parkside Church in Cleveland when we were visiting family over the weekend, as is our practice. If you are ever in the Solon, Ohio area on a Sunday you should stop by, they have a great ministry.

Pastor Begg was talking about the way we relate to and tell others about Jesus. He pointed out that Jesus never shook sinners by the shoulders and warned them of eternal damnation. When Jesus talked about Hell, he spoke quietly to his own disciples who already followed him and had no reason to fear. Jesus spoke of Heaven to sinners. To those who were lost in sin he was a cheerleader, to those secured by faith in him, he gave the solemn warning.

Why do you think that is? Pastor Begg's only point was to say that we are going about sharing our faith irresponsibly if we think that the way to lead someone to Christ is by shaking our finger in their face and foretelling their doom. But I've been thinking about it and came up with a couple reasons why Jesus might have taken the approach he did. I'm fairly sure he warned his people about hell because he wanted us to take our job as his ambassadors seriously. But why did he focus on Heaven with those that had yet to trust?

First of all, if you're just angry that I have the audacity to speak of Hell, let me first say that we all are aware there are consequences for actions. It is the way of this world. When wrong is done to someone, justice has to be meted out. Those who break the laws do not get a free pass from punishment, and if they do, we all feel that injustice has been done. And if you are proceeding with the thought that you have never done anything to break the laws of the land (or you haven't been caught anyway) than you must consider that if there are laws made by man, how much more appropriate would be the laws of the Creator, and how much more sensitive would a being of perfection be to sin than those of us who are used to it?

All of that being said, I come around again to say that Jesus apparently didn't feel that it was necessary to cajole people who didn't know him about eternal fire. He wanted them to know about everlasting life and peace instead. He wanted them to know they were loved enough to have someone pay the price in their place and live eternally at his own expense. Why? I think it's really important to God that we choose him for ourselves. He won't give us every proof, every documentation of His good intentions and promises of forever because if He did, then we wouldn't be making a choice of our own free will. Just the same, he doesn't want people to trust him because if they don't they'll be sorry. He wants them to trust in Him for the sake of his love.

Speaking from experience, AFTER a heart is placed in the hands of the Savior, the proof, the faith, the documentation surfaces. There is no way to explain this to someone who doesn't know it from living it. When a tiny step is taken toward God that is humble and acknowledging of wrongdoing, God covers the distance left in between that soul and everything they ever needed.

Either you know exactly what I mean, or you're doubtful. Or confused. All of us simply must know this: God is love. And the soul who trusts in Him will never be ashamed.

It was written in His book just that way so many years ago. And it's still true, and the truth stands so firmly above all that would rage against it here below.

As Pastor Begg summed up, so shall I: "Trust God, and get going."