the Grace of His Grace

The onset of anger and frustration began to brew quietly beneath my thoughts. It was rather distasteful coming out of the day’s sweet moments. An afternoon of conversation and revelation had been this salve drawing sight out of otherwise blind dynamics. I soak up these moments with my husband on our craigslist couch and God so near, part of the processing: the dialogue, giving light to the difficult.  Reaping the graces of that perfect insight is grace itself. He knows what we need.

            But with gained understanding and fresh perspective, I found frustration stemming from the now more recognized dysfunctions. We’re all wired against injustices, something involuntarily rises from deep inside in response to “uh… wrong!” Mulling over the crazy dynamics started to “get me going” on one of those internal rants we’re all really good at giving. Joy is so easily robbed. And I hate getting stuck there. So I decided to talk to the One who gave the insight. I took my window-side seat, aka: our comfy, 1970’s, low-rider chair endowed in fab red floral and situated nicely next our large picture window. I recently discovered its higher qualities: a fine place to contemplate, read, and pray. My journal opened and prayers took the pages.

            I told Him about the nagging situation, letting Him in on my frustrated thoughts; how sin and Satan stir havoc unceasingly, causing sweet joys to seem far and foreign. He reminded me of the peace in Him and I found myself running for shelter there. And there, in Him, Truth renewed me. Freedom was mine and I gathered it up with fresh confidence. Then the thought: in order to live intentionally I have to live confidently. “Living intentionally” has been this side-dialogue I’ve had with God. But I saw it now weaving with the present situation.

Fear has kept me from receiving and enjoying the sweet gifts and graces of Christ. Insecurities: life threatening: fatal to my joy and freedom in Him.  They’re so common, these easy vices. But the blessing remains beautiful as you, and I, cling to the truth of being “in” Him, that He is in us: a perfect, heavenly matrimony.

            Lately, I’ve been getting to know this sweet connection in an all-the-more concentrated way. Like literally living the song “This is the Air I Breathe.” (Perhaps you’ve heard it. If not let me share: “This is the Air I Breathe, Your holy presence living in me.”) You can grow up listening to such songs and then the deeper meaning strikes you one day in God’s perfect timing, much as it has for me. Realizing my relationship with God is something living, something as constant and founded as that involuntary act of breathing. He’s doing life with me daily, just as I do my life each day married to my husband. Not a day goes by that I’m not living married to Danny. And it’s that same dynamic with Jesus; it was all determined the day I said, “Yes, Jesus,” and now the reality of His life in me and my life in Him—with Him, abiding—simply is and always will be. And not just till death. In fact, death was the beginning of it all.

            There is so much to this deep revelation of life. And I know, now, it’s not just a kind of life you hear about or see others living but know you’ll have to write it off for yourself personally because you can never seem to get it. Obviously I’m familiar with such thoughts. The doubts and disbelief in me have screamed them forever. So I’ve lived stuck in a state of desperately needing and wanting Jesus to be way more real and my life to actually mean something more than XYZ. He is patient, sweet friends. And fighting for the freedom and the grace that He actually talks about IN THE WORD… is so worth it. It so often takes time. Ok… way more time than I’ve wanted, but His ways are perfect, and He will carry on His work to completion—that perfect work of pressing us on to attain that which we’ve been attained for: life and freedom with God. It’s not impossible with Him. Believe Him for it when your mind tosses unceasingly with doubts, “It will never be.” It just is. And He’ll show you… as He’s been so graciously showing me.

I found the frustrations fading, the anger melting in His light amidst my dimly lit, late afternoon apartment. Living intentionally is simply choosing His grace, believing He’s in me, with me, and has called me to be there—to be there in all of life’s crazy, unfair situations. And as I contemplated, and my journal basked in heart-cried prayers, the peace of God took me beyond the present dynamics. He reminded me to be confident of the “identities” He’s endowed me with in this life: adult, woman, mother, wife… they’re His call for me, so I can live them with authority and strength. He gave the challenges to give back to Him; an unceasing conversation, like that to a best friend or a spouse. He wants me to throw off the fear that so quickly ties me down, aka: “the sin that so easily entangles,” and live to that which He’s led me. It happens in commonplaces like late September days, small apartments, and craigslist couches. And the piece of it that will always remain is I’m in Him, He’s in me, my anchor… sitting opposite me next to the same big picture window.
            I occupied my floral chair and absorbed the sweetness of His finished work. All the craziness, the nagging dynamics of people or situation, seem far and weightless when Jesus speaks through my quiet living room, “It’s finished.” I can live within the wake of His victory: redemption. I there rest my soul. All the plaguing thoughts of fear, the clingy frustrations seemed small, as I retired an empty coffee mug and observed the fading daylight. My cares were cast and confidence renewed as the shadows deepened with evening. I closed my journal, then, with the rising light, the sweet grace of His grace.



Thanks to my mom and husband, constant voices of His patient, unceasing grace in my life and faithful prayer warriors as I've long wrestled with this truth. For the work He's accomplished in my life through your encouragement and intercession, I know He's smiling and His heart is warmed. Thank you for not giving up on me, and always reminding me that He doesn't either.