My Grace is Sufficient

My grace is sufficient for you

How often have we as believers heard those words?  I'm sure that many among the conservative homeschool crowd have embraced their pioneer wannabe-ness and slapped it on a sampler of some sort as they learned how to cross stitch.  Sorry.  I felt the need to throw that in there.  :P

How many believers know the context of this verse?

Aha!  Ok, now we can have a real discussion about real life applications.  Boom!  Excited yet?  I sure am!  Alright, let's dig in...

My last post was focused on how poor my attitude had been of late.  And as I'm well aware, this is the one lesson that I have to continually revisit.  But I went to a speech and debate tournament this past weekend!

What in tarnation does that have to do with diddly squat?  Please. Allow me to explain.

I judged many different speech categories while I was there.  Among these was apologetics, where the students have 4 minutes to prepare a 6 minute speech for the judges.  One young lady worked 2 Corinthians 12:9 into her speech, and she did a phenomenal job of applying it correctly.

The context of the verse is that Paul was given a thorn in his flesh, so to speak, to keep him from becoming conceited.  That is, he had a weakness that he pleaded to be removed from him three times.  God's answer?  "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."  To which Paul responds, "Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities.  For when I am weak, then I am strong." (2 Cor. 12:9-10)

For the first time in my life, I heard that verse as a rebuke of sorts.  God leaves no room for question.  That's it.  His grace is what we get.  But if we realized how much grace we're surrounded in, I think perhaps we'd have the understanding that of course His grace is sufficient!  How could we possibly desire anything else?

And with that perspective, it doesn't matter what terrible task we've been commissioned with, what job we're working, how many unlovable people we find in our lives, or what sort of place we may be living in.  His grace is sufficient, because at the end of the day, it's really not about you anyway.  It's all about Him.  And it's through those dreaded instances that He makes something that looks more like Him in you.

But that takes a right understanding of what grace is in the first place - unmerited favor of God

I think if I spend a decent amount of time reminding myself of God's grace, what it is, and how it changed/is changing my life, I would never complain again of anything else.  That is what is key to a right attitude.

Oh God, help me begin to understand how much grace you offer and how truly sufficient it is.

One Sinner's Hope

I bet if you're reading this you are human, and by nature of being categorized as such can sympathize with me in a certain area.  Over the course of your life, I'm willing to bet money that you've had at least one week where everything seemed to fall apart.  Got your attention yet?

This past week was perfectly riddled with imperfection -- my own imperfection

It seems that from start to finish, I managed to fail a million times within each day.  As my little list of failures continued to grow, so also did my frustration with myself and others.  From there it was one easy step to slip into the blame game.

Work, family, and relationships were all incredibly difficult for me.  Once I had struggles in one area, I let it bleed into another and build upon the other struggles that were non-existent until I let that first area infect the rest.  Craziness, I tell you!

Those are the things that threatened to undo me this week.  Every time I turned around I had a new attitude to change, a new perspective to fight for, and a new resolution to kill my terribly inward focused attitudes.

If you don't struggle with this, my hat goes off to you.  Truly.  My personal bane is my constant need to fight for a proper outlook (See?  Even "outlook" connotes looking outside of oneself) when it comes to life.  I know it's not about me, but I'm so good at forgetting.  So very, very good at it.  I think I've attained expert level.

This week has been a sad string of bloody battles that I have lost more than won.

But I have hope.  I have hope that Jesus isn't done sanctifying me.  I have hope that His plan for my life doesn't end in the despicable mire of my own sin, but rather in freedom from it that is final.  I have hope that this too shall pass.

I pray that God would continue to burn away my dross.  I know that I have quite a lot, and I'm aware that it's painful in the moment, but I also know that it's utterly worth it in the end.  And so my journey continues.

Soli Deo Gloria

Numbering our Days

The smell of brewing coffee and cooking eggs filled the air.  Waiters and waitresses hustled and bustled about serving their customers cheerfully.  I looked across the table at my mom as she and I considered a portion of Scripture together over breakfast.

Psalm 90:12, "So teach us to number our days, that we may get a heart of wisdom."

As my mom shared her thoughts, I immediately saw a timeline in my head.  At birth, everyone is given a timeline that will be filled with various events and decisions, big moments and small moments.  The catch is, though, that each person only has so many years to accomplish these things before time runs out.

I thought back on my own life.  I have already spent 22 years of my timeline.  22 years that I will never get back.  How many more years do I have to complete my part in history?  Life is so fleeting, and my desire is to live with a passion for righteousness.  But have I accomplished that?  I think in some ways I have, and in a lot of ways I haven't.

If we are taught to number our days, it's as if there is a level of urgency in our lives that may not otherwise have been there.  We only have so much time left on our timeline... are we using it wisely?

I think that's where the heart of wisdom comes into play.  If we are numbering our days, doing a countdown of sorts, then it forces us to realize that we MUST live wisely.  We must decide on our priorities, and not lose ourselves in worrying over things that hold zero value.  We must devote everything we've got to a job well done, and avoid foolish mistakes and distractions as much as possible.  Time is oh so precious and therefore something that we can't afford to waste.

At the end of all things, I long to hear my Savior say, "well done, good and faithful servant."  In order for something to be done, I have to do it in the first place!  I don't want to look back on a life filled with regrets and worries over things that don't matter.  I want to be able to look back on my life and say that I was faithful with things that the Lord entrusted to my care.

Personally I believe that numbering our days should inspire us to live humbly, faithfully, and wisely.  After all, this life that we are living is not going to last forever.  So with the time that we have, let's live in such a way that we may hear, "well done, good and faithful servant."

C'est La Vie

Today I picked up the phone in the hopes of hearing my little brother's voice.  It rang a few times before he answered.  We spent the better part of the next hour catching up on all things life.

It's amazing how quickly life can change on a person.  One minute everything's exactly how you've placed it, and the next leaves everything completely rearranged even though things were perfect the way you had them.  And yet, sometimes it takes a while for the new arrangement and it's functionality to sink in.

Over the summer, we said goodbye to the old way of life and welcomed the new.  Luke got married.  He's the first of the 11 to start a family unit of his own, and as much as I wanted to process it at the wedding or in the days following, it didn't happen.

I and several of the other older ones in the family were there for the little ones as they learned to let go of the only life they knew how to live, one where an older brother came home for holidays and summer vacation.  It was hard to watch them grapple with a change that was out of their control.  And yet, it was amazing to see how well they adapted shortly thereafter.

I was there as friends we grew up with dealt with their buddy being a married man.  I was there to help them think through it.  I was there as they recounted old memories, and I wished with all my heart I could have joined them fully.

I had wanted to cry, to miss him right away, and to wish for the days when playing cops and robbers was our highlight.  But I couldn't.  I couldn't bring myself to tears, and as hard as I tried, the memories just wouldn't come.

This past week was the first time I felt the twisting of the heartstrings that comes with the winds of change that cannot be undone.  It finally began to hit me that some of our habits as siblings will never happen again.  There are chapters in our story that we won't be able to revisit.

I can't go downstairs and expect Luke to be sitting there waiting to cook up a midnight snack.  I can't simply lace up my running shoes and go for one of our walks where we share our hearts.  I can't tune in to one of his outlandishly dramatic and hilarious tales whenever I feel like it.  Not anymore.

But I do have the memories.  And I lived to remember and soak in the moments for a reason.  Now that he's establishing his own family and coming into his new role as husband (to a fantastic sister-in-law, I might add), I may not be able to reenact the things we used to do together, but I can sit back and relive the memories that I have stored up all these years.

I've said it before, but I will say it again: life is bittersweet.  I love that I was given 20 years to make memories with my brother.  I love that while we once walked through life together as kids, we can continue to walk through life together as adults.  And I love that I'm finally able to fully enjoy this new season of life.

And you know something?  Life is a beautiful, beautiful thing.  

The Whole Armor of God

¹⁰ Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might. ¹¹ Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. ¹² For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. ¹³ Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm. ¹⁴ Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, ¹⁵ and, as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace. ¹⁶ In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one; ¹⁷ and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, ¹⁸ praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints, ¹⁹ and also for me, that words may be given to me in opening my mouth boldly to proclaim the mystery of the gospel, ²⁰ for which I am an ambassador in chains, that I may declare it boldly, as I ought to speak.

Ephesians 6:10-20

This was my prayer today.

And So I Run

Working out.  It's tough.  I love it.  I hate it.  It's not a competition.  But it kinda is.  Working out is where you find that you are your own worst enemy.

This morning I woke to my brother nudging my shoulder.  "Time to go!"  Biting back a moan about how it would be so much nicer to stay in bed for another couple hours before work, I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and pulled my messy bed-head hair into a pony tail.

I am not a morning person.  Not in the slightest.  But for my brother, I'd do almost anything, including getting up before the sun to take him to the airport.

The plus to getting up early?  A quiet and still house to come home to in which to have my coffee with God.

After I got home from work, I wanted to do nothing more than either curl up with my book or simply take a nap.  However, I knew if I didn't run right then that I wouldn't get my exercise in.  Sometimes, you've just gotta force yourself to do the uncomfortable.  For me that means sometimes running a few miles in the heat of the day when I would rather be doing anything but.

Life is tough.  Suck it up.

One of the things I've found, though, is that my runs have become super important to me.  Do I enjoy them?  Not particularly.  I can't breathe, I get tired of running the same routes, my legs hurt, and my little brother is not so subtle in his "you should probably get a shower now" hints.

That being said, part of me enjoys them and they have quickly become important to me.  Running allows me to get out of the house, do something good/productive for myself, process life, and most importantly, pray.  Yes, my runs have quickly turned into my prayer time.  Why?  Because I am very clearly reminded in a very tangible way that when I am weak He is strong.  With that very much at the forefront of my mind, I find that I get a lot of ground covered both spiritually and physically.

That's part of the reason I force myself to run 5 miles regularly or try new routes and switch it up, or simply push myself harder.  It's a good reminder of the work that needs doing in my spiritual walk/run with the Lord.

And so I run.

Hosea

I've been reading through Hosea recently and I gotta say that I had to force myself to take it slow.  I finished it yesterday, but I found myself reading back through the passages that caught my attention again this morning.  There is so much to chew on that I might have to park here for a bit and just reread it.

Hosea 11

When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son.  The more they were called, the more they went away; they kept sacrificing to the Baals and burning offerings to idols.  

Yet it was I who taught Ephraim to walk; I took them up by their arms, but they did not know that I healed them.  I led them with cords of kindness, with the bands of love, and I became to them as one who eases the yoke on their jaws, and I bent down to them and fed them.  

They shall not return to the land of Egypt, but Assyria shall be their kind, because they have refused to return to me.  The sword shall rage against their cities, consume the bars of their gates, and devour them because of their own counsels.  My people are bent on turning away from me, and though they call out to the Most High, he shall not raise them up at all.  

How can I give you up, O Ephraim?  How can I hand you over, O Israel?  How can I make you like Admah?  How can I treat you like Zeboiim?  My heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender.  I will not execute my burning anger; I will not again destroy Ephraim; for I am God and not a man, the Holy One in your midst, and I will not come in wrath.  

They shall go after the LORD; he will roar like a lion; when he roars, his children shall come trembling from the west; they shall come trembling like birds from Egypt, and like doves from the land of Assyria, and I will return them to their homes, declares the LORD.  Ephraim has surrounded me with lies, and the house of Israel with deceit, but Judah still walks with God and is faithful to the Holy One.  

This particular passage has my head spinning.  So much of God's character is portrayed here and I don't think that I, with my finite mind, can comprehend all of it.  Yeah, I'll definitely be mulling over this one for a while.