Goodness Gracious

Or do you despise the riches of His goodness, forbearance, and longsuffering, not knowing that the goodness of God leads you to repentance? Romans 2:4 (NKJV)

My husband “does the bills.”  It was decided that he would during the initial attempt of trying to conjoin our bank accounts prior to marriage.

Excited at such a significant representation of unity, our premarital giddiness waned as the dignified teller kindly yet matter- of- factly shared that my personal account was overdrawn to the tune of $270.00 and would not be able to be closed until it was in the black. Waiting patiently while I pulled out my checkbook registry-it didn’t seem to matter to her at all that according to my figures I had well over one hundred dollars to contribute to my new joint account.

Graciously, my husband-to- be discreetly dealt with the issue.  He paid the debt I owed and never spoke of it again.   It was clear however, with my apparent weakness in the area of checkbook balancing, that he should be in charge of the family finances.

Since then, I have gotten into the practice of not even really looking at the bills.  When they come in the mail I simply place them on the computer desk to be dealt with by my husband as he sees fit.  After fifteen years of marriage it has become the routine.

Past the years when finances were so tight that bill paying time caused nausea, tension and called for mutual encouragement of one another that God would see us through; bill paying itself has now also has become routine.  At least I thought so until one day, from his bill paying spot, my sweet husband sweetly called my name.  When I walked into the room, in his hand he held up a single bill, upon which I recognized the logo of our cell service provider.  After fifteen years, even without a word, I recognized those defining features of frustration etched across his face.  I sat down on the bed prepared to be his source for venting about the cell phone company, the  mistake that they had made and how he was going to have to deal with fixing it.

After a moment of silence and a deliberate deep breath he said in a steady, calm voice “our cell phone bill shows that your telephone number went over our limit by 250 minutes.”  While I sat there, frozen in that deer in the headlights stance, immediately the awareness of talking on the phone a tad more than usual in the past month started to resonate within me.

Realizing the dire financial consequences of such carelessness, I cautiously met with his eyes prepared to offer an apology and acknowledgement of my complete irresponsibility.  He had every right to be angry.  Seeing that I was about to speak, he held up his hand to stop me.  I kind of braced myself to prepare for whatever he had to offer.  With kind eyes and a soft but serious tone he said “let’s try to be more careful about that…okay?”  What else could I say but ….”okay.”  He then turned back to the computer screen indicating our conversation regarding the matter was finished and I was “off the hook”.

I spent the rest of the day contemplating my husband’s response of goodness and graciousness.  He could have reacted so much differently. I knew the magnitude of the mistake made.  Had he responded any other way I might have become defensive or made excuses.  And yet, his kindness of response to me did not cause me to dismiss the seriousness of my mistake.  The goodness and grace of his response served only to magnify my desire to never make that mistake again.

God’s grace has that same affect on me.

Father, help me to respond to others as you have responded to me.

Embrace Grace

Be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you. Ephesians 4:32 (NAS)

According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary one of the definitions of the term forgive is the following :

a : to give up resentment of or claim to requital for <forgive an insult>

This definition actually makes me smile.  For many of my younger years my mouth had a mind of its own and often did not consult with my brain before engaging in conversation.  I realize now that I was lacking the filter of wisdom and discernment which is useful in deciphering not just how a thought sounds in your brain, but the actual potential that it has to impact the person to whom it is directed.

I can recall several after the fact apologies I had to make once that very valuable filter was implanted into my heart.  Learning to obey the inner leadings of the Holy Spirit that I’m sure  often screamed at me “No!”  “Stop!”  “Don’t say that!” was a process for me.   Later, the Lord would gently bring to my heart’s attention what I had said that could have been-and probably was– offensive to the hearer. I then had a choice to make.

At some point deciding that obedience to God was more valuable than my own pride I would take a deep breath and dial.  Especially in those early days, over the phone was much easier than a face to face apologetic encounter.

My heart rate would increase as I dialed the number while rehearsing what I would say in my head.  I would usually start with casual small talk while working up the courage to confront the issue at hand.  With a moment of silence and a deep breath to transition I would, often with shaking voice, explain why I had really called and apologize for the verbal faux pas.  And then, feeling very humble and vulnerable, I would wait for their response.

Responses varied.  Sometimes the receiver of my apology seemed clueless of any error in communication.  They would laugh, dismiss my apology as unnecessary, and move onto whatever topic of conversation that next struck them.  I would get off of the phone feeling that “at least I obeyed God.”

Other times, the awkward silence which I met with offered me confirmation that indeed my words had wounded. Stuck at a difficult impasse’ we each held the receivers to our ears waiting.  Short, tight words would be offered but it was obvious that they were a reflection only of the “shoulds” within that person’s heart- they were still hurt and angry and my apology, no matter how sincere, did not carry the clout to outweigh my offense.  I would get off of the phone feeling anxious, heart sick and unsettled wishing that there was something more I could do to make it right.

A final response that I met with was that of grace.  Offered by seasoned women of God, these were teachable moments for me.  Never dismissing whatever truth there was in my confession and repentance, there was acknowledgement of the inappropriate comment I had made.  This acknowledgement would then be chased by an undeniable outpouring of the love through forgiveness grace and mercy of God.  I would end the call feeling thankful and rightly restored with that person.  In those times I could fathom no better gift than the mercy which I had been offered.

I desire to never forget that relief which I experienced when being released from the debt of offense.  As time has gone on, I too have occasionally been the receiver of a repentant telephone call.  My heart’s desire is that I would be able to lay aside my own hurt in order to extend that same grace filled forgiveness to others.

Father, strengthen me to always resist resentment and embrace grace.

Puzzling Weakness

And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 2 Cor. 12:9 (NKJ)

One of the consistent conundrums of teaching a multi-level class dwells in the confines of the puzzle cabinet.  Maintaining an appropriate supply of puzzles to suit the skill levels of the broad range of 4-7 year olds is sometimes difficult.

Ben, a precious, fair skinned, big brown eyed four year old that I had in Kindergarten last year loved puzzles.  When other children would utilize their free time by racing Hot Wheels or building Lego towers, Ben would be the sole creature wandering toward the puzzle cabinet to meet with his next challenge. Sizing up what was required by examining the front of the box picture, he would decidedly choose. Sitting down on the floor and sliding off the top he would dump the pieces in a huge pile and begin.

Twisting and turning the pieces every way feasible Ben would work hard on the puzzle until I had to make the inevitable declaration that it was time to clean up.  All in one motion, releasing an enormous burdened breath, his shoulders would slump and his head would hang.  Obvious disappointment upon his face, he would look at me and say “but I’m not finished yet.”

Sympathizing with his plight I would offer a hug and the help to clean up the pieces to soften the blow of transition.  He would place the pieces back into the box, replace the lid and slowly walk the puzzle back to its home. With no sense of victory and no satisfaction of completion, his frustration was obvious at yet another “wasted” playtime.

Here’s the thing; without fail, Ben would repeatedly choose only the most difficult puzzles in the cabinet.  Initially, I would take advantage of this teachable moment by explaining that if he were to choose a less complicated puzzle there would be plenty of time to complete it.  To Ben however, the Kindergarten puzzles which offered less pieces that were larger only taunted his puzzling skills and were for “babies.”  My suspicion was that middle child syndrome had followed him to school and the ever enduring burden of doing “bigger-kid” things weighed heavily upon his shoulders.

Ben refused to accept or acknowledge his own weakness and it made life, at least the puzzling aspect of it, harder for him.

I too have struggled when it comes to accepting my own weaknesses.  In fact, I have spent the majority of my life avoiding, ignoring and despising them.

For many years shame was my inward response to places of weakness.  An abundance of grace to offer others, I have always thought I should “be better”, “do better” and “struggle less”.   An invisible yardstick marked expectation lives permanently in my pocket and waits to be pulled out whenever I feel that I have fallen short of where I should be.  As a child of God, far from boasting in my infirmities I have strived to hide them and have often felt like “what’s wrong with me, I shouldn’t be struggling with this again!…”

And yet, I know that any weakness we discover within ourselves comes as no surprise at all to the very one who loved us first. As our Alpha and Omega, our beginning and our end, He knew from the very first day that He chose us every weakness we would confront along this journey; and He still chose us anyway.

It is when we learn not only to accept our weaknesses, but to recognize, acknowledge and embrace them that we allow the strength of God in those places to freely flow into our lives.

Father, help me to exchange my weakness for your perfect strength. 

Wash Rinse Repeat

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. 1 John 1:9

Knowing that it was important that I get up early but realizing that my body wasn’t cooperating, I got into the shower to help things along.  As the water started, so did my brain and it shifted straight into third gear.  Scrolling through the tasks of the day ahead, my body began the motions of daily cleansing.  Barely cognitive of purposeful action, individual tasks involved were less intentional and more instinctual- wash my body, wash my face, wash my hair.  Although the color, smell, and texture of cleansing goop changed, the routine never did.

As soon as I placed shampoo onto my head and began to lather I was distracted from my inner dialogue by the distinctive sense of déjà vu.  With only a few finger scrunches, the quick intensity of lather confirmed to me that I had already washed my hair. I was irritated that now I would have to take time to go through the entire process yet again.

It’s not so much that washing my hair is difficult; it is more of a matter of the pointless redundancy of needlessly repeating an act I had already completed.  The time, energy and shampoo wasted because of my absent mindedness and lack of attention “scrubbed me” the wrong way.

This isn’t the only area of my life that has been touched by needless repetition.

For years I was stuck in the wash, rinse and repeat cycle.  When I would sin, the gentle loving conviction of God would be smothered out by the gut wrenching condemnation offered to me by the enemy.

Like a shamed and fearful child sometimes days and even weeks would go by that I would avoid time spent alone with the Lord.  My eyes and heart cast down I would listen and accept each scornful accusation from the enemy reassuring me that I had surely blown it this time. Although  I could feel the Holy Spirit tugging at me to come and spend time with Him I would decline His gentle invitation, reminding Him of how unworthy I was of His love, forgiveness and mercy.

Eventually I would find myself again at the realization that God was both my breath and my life.  Where did I have to go but to Him?  Always with abundant tears and a contrite heart I would slowly make my way to His throne room of grace, gently knock on the door and enter in head down and eyes averted.  I couldn’t even understand why He would want to spend time with me as we both knew exactly who I was.  He patiently listened to my guilt ridden confessions between sobs of anger and frustration of where I found myself yet again due to my own willful disobedience.

Out of words and exhausted from the intensity of the moment I would then just lay there swimming in the truth of how unworthy I was of any kindness, mercy or love that He would extend to me.

And then peace would come and He would speak to my heart.

He would remind me of His love for me.  That He was both my Alpha and Omega and knew my beginning from my end. Even still, He loved me first, with every flaw and imperfection, and that was the only reason I loved Him.  He assured me that my choices were no surprise to Him- he knew what He was getting into when He chose me, called me and set me apart as His own.  “I love you, your forgiven, go and sin no more.”

No need to wash, rinse and repeat with God.  Simply ask for forgiveness, it’s done.

Thank you Father for your grace, mercy and forgiveness in my life. 

Perspective- It’s Everything

Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. Matthew 7:1

I’m cannot fathom what I was thinking.  I mulled this over as I stood in the outfield, trying to hear myself think above the chattering of my own teeth. One hand gloved I wrapped both arms around myself, a futile attempt to stay warm. Contemplating the consequences of commitment I regretfully realized that I knew exactly what Jesus would do and frankly at that moment I wished I wasn’t so sure.

What in the world made me think that joining a women’s softball team was a good idea? Feeling more like a spectator than a participant I watched the action taking place in the game before me.  After the first game I had been strategically “re-located” to the far right field. I’m not certain but I think perhaps the balls that I consistently missed both on the ground (I watched it roll right through my legs) and in the air ( I was sure I had it until it landed about three feet behind me) had something to do with their decision. So, in the quiet stillness of right field, I took advantage of the inaction and searched for the life lesson the Lord had for me even in this.

I have to admit I was surprised at my own lack of athletic ability.  I have always been a can-do kind of girl.  When others shrink away from new challenges due to fear, my train of thought tends to run more consistently upon the tracks of “Why not me?, If other people can do it, then so can I.”

After all, I had been watching my son play baseball since He was five years old.  That means for the past five years I have spent countless hours at practices and games cheering and coaching from the stands.  I learned quickly that nicknames of “sugar” and “honey” attached to any kind of encouragement made the aforementioned encouragement null and void so substituting a more generic “Buddy” or “Son” in their place I had become quite an effective sideline baseball expert / cheerleader.  It was easy, from the viewpoint of the bleachers, to see mistakes being made and how they could have been avoided. It was easy, after a game, to gently remind my son of those areas that could be improved that would in turn transform his “good” playing skills into “great” playing skills.  It was easy to encourage him during his little league season in right field that everyone  on the team is important and it didn’t really matter what position you played.

Now, standing on the far side of right field as the direct consequence of my own less than stellar softball playing skills I was feeling a little pouty and dejected.  I now understood the tears that would stream down his face after a game spent in the outfield; I now understood the embarrassment of a mistake made in the view of so many staring eyes.

Many times I have found myself becoming frustrated with other Believers.  I can easily look into their lives, deducing a quick judgment call and think “If you would just do this your life would be so much better.”  Sometimes the very answer that seems so apparent to me seems to be the very thing to which they are blinded.

As I stand in right field for the remainder of this playing season I will remember that some things seem much easier when you are not the one in the midst of them.  What others need when they are struggling is our unconditional love, support and prayer.  What they do not need is our judgment.

 Father, help me to love as you love.