Grace That Is Greater

I'm in a season of learning, a gentle guiding of the Spirit that feels much like a close friend making me aware of important moments as we walk side by side.  Most recently my lessons have come in the form of grace.  I have prayed to understand grace, for God to break me open to know and grasp and feel the depth of His grace to the point it knocks me on my knees.  It's like a wildflower that has lined the path of this journey of life, always having been there, sometimes talked about, but always so present that I have become immune to it.  Now my Guide has paused me for a moment just long enough to point out this flower, to encourage me to examine it more closely, and as I begin to pay attention I notice the captivating beauty and intricacy that has been there all along.

I have prayed to understand, and I had hoped to be suddenly bathed in understanding.  But God doesn't always answer prayer in a way that matches my immediate-gratification lifestyle.  These lessons of growth, they take time.  Years.  A lifetime.  Bit by bit He pulls back the curtain, showing me only a glimpse at a time until the day comes when He will remove the veil completely.

With this glimpse, He puts me to work.  I want to grasp in the deepest places of my heart what the life and death and resurrection of Christ means to me and for me.  In order for me to understand what He has given to me, I must first give it to others.  And how much richer and sweeter it is to do the work and take ownership in the process.

This I have learned:  Grace is hard.  When I am wronged or inconvenienced, affected by the actions of someone else, lose or miss out from the decision of another, that is when grace isn't so beautiful and flowing. Rather, that is when grace rolls up her sleeves, takes a deep breath, and plunges straight into the muck that is sin.  She loves when love is not received.  She gives when all is taken, and then gives some more.  She is patient when the same mistake is made yet again.  She expects imperfection and embraces in spite of it.  She sacrifices self for the hope that one more will enter the Kingdom.

This also I have learned:  I expect to receive grace always, but do not readily offer it unconditionally.  I hold my interests close, finding it convenient to give grace only when I have a place in which she fits.  But that is not the way of grace, because that is not the way of Jesus.  The way of Jesus is to give, and to love to the point of death.

I want my life to revolve around grace.  It is hard and it is exhausting.  It means my schedule and plans will fall apart, because grace has her own agenda, and it has nothing to do with how I desire to spend my time.  At times it hurts, and other times it fills me with unspeakable joy.  It is a journey, one faltering grace-step at a time.