Grace for Grace

"He is KIND to the ungrateful and evil." - Luke 6:35 I love that the word "kind" was used here. "Ungrateful" and "evil" are such strong words, strong spiritual deficiencies with pretty despicable symptoms. Yet instead of "judgement", or "tough love", or even "merciful" which are all forceful good, the word "kind" is gentle, a soft touch that holds the force of mercy and the all consuming love with a sweetness that the ungrateful and evil do not deserve. Love is powerful enough to transform without the fear of punishment or judgement. Love is the only thing that transforms, it is big, and sweeping, and you are in the middle of it before you knew you had started. Kindness is the front door, the invitation, gentle and subtle and sweet. Kindness ushers us into grace, but kindness is the doorstep, where it becomes our choice to respond or not, and if we do respond to that kindness, the door opens, and grace ...

Ah, pride. The sneakiest of the seven deadly sins. It is a subtle attacker that digs its hook into your every motivation and belief. Even if you win one battle against it, you can almost guarantee that it will win the next, and later you will realize that it actually did win the battle, just in a more subtle way. Pride is the hardest to overcome (I think), because no matter how potent fear is, it is remedied by accepting love and declaring who you are over the situation. Pride can survive that. Pride hides and lurks and swims under the water. Once you realize what it tastes like, the foul taste is everywhere. I hate pride, I hate it so much, yet I allow it to rule my life. I cooperate with it because in the moment, it feels good. And the layers are so subtle. Self-righteousness, which seems to be pride's favorite manifestation in my life, can be so self-aware. Like, I will realize that I am being self-righteous, and then feel self-righteous about recognizing it. And then I...

The Holy Spirit is in us. That is profound. It should change how we live every single day. I think we forget that the crescendo of the cross is the Holy Spirit. The Comforter. It says in John that it is better for us that Jesus died and went away so we could have the Holy Spirit. I freaking love the Holy Spirit. He is so weird to have a relationship with because He is, no matter how close, always going to be a mystery. Even though He is a person, a part of the Trinity, the Holy Spirit of God that holds God's own heart for us, He is still a Force Unknown, an intangible thing. weird. Yet I am so convinced of His presence and power in my life. It feels almost silly for me to be writing on the Holy Spirit since I am just beginning my relationship with Him, but I do know that no matter what stage you are at in your growth, He wants more. He wants to be depended on for everything, to ease our wonderings and stress. He wants everything, and He is for everything. His purpose is relat...

I'm going to start out by saying that I don't understand the Trinity, and I don't think that my finite mind will. The idea of three separate persons, but also one person, still separate, all together, is actual gibberish. Anyway, because I didn't understand the Trinity and didn't want to say the wrong thing, I would always refer to God, or Jesus, or the Holy Spirit as a vague "Lord". The blanket term. It's kind of like calling Satan or demons "the enemy". It added distance for me, safety in case I messed up terminology or sounded too "woo-woo". But that sanitized distance wasn't good enough for God. My first encounter with God was with the paternal, crushingly close love of a Father. It felt like something was released in me, and something was pressed upon me at the same time. That framed my picture of the grand galaxy God that loves so completely. God the Father. Then I was swept up into a long season of discovering Jes...

A powerful tool in overcoming pride is exposing it, being honest. That's how we get humility. If we hold on to pride in our hearts, we can sweep it under the rug, justify our actions, and pretend like it's not there, but the moment we say it out loud, we have to acknowledge that we are still fallible, still deeply sinful and in need of God's mercy. It is one of the most humbling things you can do to be open about your sin. I believe God rejoices when we take that step and begin to be free with our heart, good and bad. Because that's what He wants for us, freedom. Every time that I admit to a fault, I feel freaking victorious. It is such a small thing, but it takes so much. And for me, it signifies how far I've come, and I am proud of it, of what God has done in my heart. The other day I was struggling with something in my heart towards Bethany, and it was petty, and after going back and forth in my mind long enough, I just said it. I just said "I know it...

I'm two pages into Psalms, and already head over heels in love with this book. So far, I see myself so clearly in David. I am an emotions-driven person, and it really sounds like David was too. For the past two years, I've been in an ongoing process (with lots of layers) of learning how to healthily coexist with my emotions, allowing myself to feel it fully without falling into it, all while I include God. Seeing David's process with emotion, singing of the Lord's goodness and faithfulness, and then turning around and singing about how he feels the Lord abandoned him, and then back to praising the Lord. First of all, what a drama queen (but like, same). Second of all, David hid nothing. He didn't turn away from difficult emotions, rather he embraced them, sang them to the Lord, got them out of the way, and returned to what he knew to be true: God's goodness. There's such a simplicity and beauty in that kind of vulnerability that demonstrates a trust like...

"Never let the sun go down on your anger." is a quote from Little Women, (technically it's from the Bible, but it will always be from Little Women in my mind) a book I read as soon as I learned how to read. I couldn't quote anything else from Little Women, but that phrase stayed with me. When I was little, I was an angry child, easily provoked, petty, and everything in between. I would get in an argument with my sister or my mother, and then I would coddle that offense all day. I would stroke it and whisper sweet nothings to it, convinced that I was right to have this offense and anger towards whomever wronged me. But without fail, at the end of the day I would be in my bunk bed trying to fall asleep, unable to rest because the whisper of "Never let the sun go down on your anger." played over and over. Again without fail, I would crawl out of bed and go to either my mom or sister and whisper my apology, so thoroughly convicted and wanting to repair things ...