Lately I’ve found myself living in this strange dichotomy where my mind knows reality, but my heart dwells in lies. My mind knows the theories and phrases and vague Scriptural references to encourage others, to let them know that striving isn’t going to work in our grace-based belief set, and I even preach these things to myself, as I believe we’re called to do continually. But my heart continues to roll around in the muck and tar-sticky lies of gracelessness.
Where did this chasm begin for me? When did I start believing that grace was for other people, but I had to white knuckle my way through these days, attempting to be more put together and less broken, less… me? I think at some point I began thinking that because God has continually given me revelations of His heart and gifts to make use of and a quick-functioning brain and beautiful fellowship, I’m somehow called to live a more flawless life than others, even other believers. Like, “to whom much is given, much is expected.”
But I forget so easily that though the Ark of the Covenant contained the two tablets of the Law, the mercy seat with the weird archangels or whatever sat on TOP. That the sacrifices would be placed on the mercy seat, and the blood would flow ever downward, covering the law and all its demands. And I seem to want to try so hard to throw my offerings onto an altar that’s already occupied, covered, and sealed with the blood of my risen Maker and Co-heir. They don’t help anyone, least of all me. They just slide to the floor, laying even with the tablets of the Law, now conquered.
So today I’m thankful for this awareness, this perspective God’s given me over the past years and is still giving me pretty much daily, because daily is how frequently I try and earn my keep with a Redeemer who doesn’t chide me til my eyes face the ground, but instead lifts my chin so my eyes meet His. He tells me He’s proud, and I can’t catch my breath. He wraps me up when the cold comes and my first reaction is to ball up with my broken cisterns and wait for Summer. It’s His love that makes me new, that makes me worth something.
So today I’m asking You, Savior. I’m asking again because I need it again: rescue me like the lame animal I am, and make my feet like the feet of a dear. I cannot rescue myself. My effort is pride, and my humility is a last resort. But You call me yours, and that is where I will rest. Destroy all other columns I’ve filed myself under so that when I wake up before the sun or lay down exhausted, I find all other names strange, and find identity only in being called your beloved. You are all sufficient, and I will ever praise You. You are infinity more deserving of weight than I, so I make the decision today to transfer the weight and attention from my life and my hands, to Your face. I love you, and I’m so richly, richly, magnificently blessed because You loved me first. Christ Jesus, Savior, friend, You intercede still, and it’s in Your merciful name I pray. Amen.
