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Suspicious of Grace

Light streamed into the room, waking us from slumber a little after 6:30 on Christmas morning. Standing in the doorway was my five year old son, jubilant and grinning with wonder. “Thanks mom and dad! I love my presents!” His happiness so great, all my husband and I could mumble back in response was, “You’re welcome, J.” Had he temporarily forgotten opening presents in our home was a shared experience or simply been overcome by the excitement of knowing good gifts awaited him at the foot of a towering, glimmering tree?

Years have come and gone since that five year old burst into our room. The picture has stayed with me, deeply ingrained in a treasure trove of memories. His unassuming nature and confidence in two flawed parents, who loved him deeply, shaped who he was as a child. A little boy who would never question if he was the intended recipient of the many gifts wrapped in red and green. No suspicions of what might be required, if the gifts were accepted. An absurd thought to a child. Without question, he knew he was the intended recipient to an abundance of gifts, given out of love. No strings attached. Just love and grace.

As a newly married bride, I remember being overwhelmed by the grace shown me by my husband. It didn’t make any sense. I knew he loved me, but to cover over mistakes and offenses with a generous helping of grace was beyond my comprehension. I expected anger, harsh words or a cold look, at the least. None of these were given. All of them, out of character with the man I married; the husband I loved. Yet the reality of my life experiences made me hesitant. Anything but the harshness I’d expected, made me, for a time, slightly suspicious. Unlike my son, I was suspicious of grace.

Over a period of time, I realized grace was freely given in love. In fact, grace defined our relationship. I was overwhelmed by it. How could someone love me so much, he’d overlook the very things I knew were wrong? Grace changed me. The grace of a loving husband.

How much more the grace of God? We experience so much negativity in our lives, often we walk around a bit shell-shocked, hunching down, preparing for the next strike, the next bad thing to happen. Why is it we’re suspicious of grace? We’ve heard God loves beyond measure, lavishly providing good things to his children. Yet rather than looking up & seeking Him, we go about biding our time; sure that something bad is inevitable, just around the corner. We live precariously walking a fine line, certain any gaze upward will be met with nothing but anger and disappointment. Living as imperfect people among other imperfect people, we’ve conditioned ourselves to expect the worst. Never realizing, we’re viewing God through our understanding of human nature. But that’s just it, God isn’t defined by flawed human nature. He is perfect. Divine. His responses of love make no sense in light of our understanding. So with our focus in the wrong direction, we never look up long enough to see the blessings laid right before us.

How much more does God freely give good gifts to his children? Allowing nagging doubt and fear to force our eyes to our feet robs us of the pleasure of these gifts. Why not look up expectantly, knowing even when difficult circumstances are allowed in our path, God has good gifts to give, reserved just for us. Each of us. Everyday.

Like a small child racing down the stairs to receive gifts from loving, generous parents, how much more joy might there be in racing to our Father in heaven, seeking Him with the knowledge that He is good? He longs to see joy on our faces, particularly when that joy comes from knowing Him, the one who gives immeasurably more than all we could ever hope or imagine.

Photo courtesy of PhotoXpress

Hope Rises


Weak. Fallible. Imperfect. Me. I don’t have to look far to see wrong in this world. Looking in a mirror, staring back is the reflection of one who falls short daily. Easter is a life-line – for me, for all who struggle. A life-line held out by the scarred hands of a God who loves big.

The hope of Easter isn’t just a fairy tale. It is the living, breathing God who rose from the dead after conquering all that is wrong in this world – sickness, greed, selfishness, death. All that is wrong in me. And for that I’m eternally grateful.

Jesus’ death ushered in a spring-time of sorts. The promise of all things being made new. We celebrate the One who came to make all things new. To redeem. Rebuild. Give life to the fullest.

Grateful to be a work in progress, being made new. With limited vision, I only see the work along the way. Trusting the great Artist, who molds and shapes each day. Trusting the God, who sees the finished masterpiece.

And so I celebrate, because Hope rises.

Happy Easter!

Photo courtesy of PhotoXpress

Speaking the Truth in Love

Judgement. Criticism. Harshness. Narrow-mindedness. Some of my least favorite things. Things I’d expect to run into living each day in an over-caffeinated, performance and appearance driven world. Just part of the package. Oddly enough, one place I’ve run into some of the harshest criticism is the one place I’d assume it didn’t exist – the church. Read more

Sizer or Life-Giver: Which One are You?

There seem to be two types of people in this world, those who view others through the lens of what is lacking and those who see great value in the personhood of another human being. Read more