I wish I could get everything straight in my head. It's like a squiggly line of tangled confusion. My view, my acceptance of God. It is anything but clear right now. It is anything but easy to follow or even look at. I have for so long required God to do what I want before I accept him. It is daunting to realize the pain I have caused him; the distance I have ensured.
It began in my infancy. It began in yours, too. Our moral compass began to form as we first tried to defy adults around us. Their response to this sinful nature, began our journey.
I learned early on that being "good" paid off. If I was good, meaning if I followed directions given to me by adults (parents, school teachers, babysitters, Sunday school teachers, the bus driver), I would be rewarded with their favor. To me, this also translated into believing that if I were good enough, I would merit their love. If I was perfect enough, if I was quiet enough, stood in line straight enough, got perfect grades and perfect attendance, I would be loved. Otherwise, I was barely noticed.
Those pats on the head, verbal inflations of the heart, sustained me until I would need the next fix. Does that seem sad? An 8 year old girl only felt acceptance and love when she was told she met someone else's expectations? Maybe not. I think a lot of us were never told, verbally or non verbally, that no matter what we did or didn't do...we were loved.
I learned from church that I was so bad, Jesus had to die for me, but I never quite got the memo that my "badness" was washed away by the shedding of his blood. I heard this message, but the expectation rang louder that good kids act a certain way and Jesus isn't pleased if you don't. If I were to be a good Christian, I had to be good all the time. That's the problem...I could never attain this. There was a distinct separation between good kids and the bad kids. I grew up believing that being good meant pleasing others, and this was the only way to be accepted. I became like a mouse scurrying on a wheel in a cage. I could never quite grasp the total acceptance and love I yearned to know.
So now, I ponder the meaning of grace. I find myself grappling with the notion that I am wholly accepted and the debt is paid. I don't have to do anything anymore. I keep wondering what the catch is. I know there is none, but my heart is waiting for God to be like everyone else; waiting for the fine print to be read where I must perform so that he will love me.
I sit here trying to stop believing that even Jesus wants more from me than I can give. How very crucial it is not to teach our children that their worth is based on works. Their worth is in their being. In being a human being created by an almighty God whose sins have been paid for. Yes, flawed. Yes, a mess at times...but forgiven. Truly loved...when acting morally and not.
I sit here reflecting on my many works done in the name of God grieving the fact that only a handful were done graciously, in the name of Christ. How I have squandered time and resources so that I could distance myself from God-getting my high from meeting the expectations of others and ignoring God, because he didn't do what I expected of him. How childish.
I digress. These misgivings are forgiven. These sins of pride and foolishness are wiped away by the blood of the Savior. What a blessed gift.
It began in my infancy. It began in yours, too. Our moral compass began to form as we first tried to defy adults around us. Their response to this sinful nature, began our journey.
I learned early on that being "good" paid off. If I was good, meaning if I followed directions given to me by adults (parents, school teachers, babysitters, Sunday school teachers, the bus driver), I would be rewarded with their favor. To me, this also translated into believing that if I were good enough, I would merit their love. If I was perfect enough, if I was quiet enough, stood in line straight enough, got perfect grades and perfect attendance, I would be loved. Otherwise, I was barely noticed.
Those pats on the head, verbal inflations of the heart, sustained me until I would need the next fix. Does that seem sad? An 8 year old girl only felt acceptance and love when she was told she met someone else's expectations? Maybe not. I think a lot of us were never told, verbally or non verbally, that no matter what we did or didn't do...we were loved.
I learned from church that I was so bad, Jesus had to die for me, but I never quite got the memo that my "badness" was washed away by the shedding of his blood. I heard this message, but the expectation rang louder that good kids act a certain way and Jesus isn't pleased if you don't. If I were to be a good Christian, I had to be good all the time. That's the problem...I could never attain this. There was a distinct separation between good kids and the bad kids. I grew up believing that being good meant pleasing others, and this was the only way to be accepted. I became like a mouse scurrying on a wheel in a cage. I could never quite grasp the total acceptance and love I yearned to know.
So now, I ponder the meaning of grace. I find myself grappling with the notion that I am wholly accepted and the debt is paid. I don't have to do anything anymore. I keep wondering what the catch is. I know there is none, but my heart is waiting for God to be like everyone else; waiting for the fine print to be read where I must perform so that he will love me.
I sit here trying to stop believing that even Jesus wants more from me than I can give. How very crucial it is not to teach our children that their worth is based on works. Their worth is in their being. In being a human being created by an almighty God whose sins have been paid for. Yes, flawed. Yes, a mess at times...but forgiven. Truly loved...when acting morally and not.
I sit here reflecting on my many works done in the name of God grieving the fact that only a handful were done graciously, in the name of Christ. How I have squandered time and resources so that I could distance myself from God-getting my high from meeting the expectations of others and ignoring God, because he didn't do what I expected of him. How childish.
I digress. These misgivings are forgiven. These sins of pride and foolishness are wiped away by the blood of the Savior. What a blessed gift.
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