The Beauty of Grace is that it Makes Life Not Fair

"Grace is but glory begun, and glory is but grace perfected." -Jonathan Edwards

Being a perfectionist in the society we live in today, grace has always been a concept I've struggled to accept. I've been taught that grace is "what makes life not fair." That it is a gift that should be accepted without question. But especially lately, as I have struggled to trust and relinquish control.

Last week, I checked out DVD's from the UTD library to complete a project. Due to my inability to return any item ever, I forgot to turn them in...and accrued $80 worth of fines. I e-mailed the librarian to see if I could set up a payment plan, and he asked for me to come in and fill out a form about why they were late. I did just that. Today, I checked my student mailbox. The paper that lay in it looked familiar, etched with my block print handwriting in my black pilot pen. "Why did they just put this back in my box?" I thought, starting to feel frustrated. As I continued to read over the paper, however, I realized why it was returned to me. A small "x" had been written in tiny penmenship in the box labeled "dismissed." Grace. I deserved to pay that fine, but it was taken away. I think God places situations in my life to help me accept this grace, so that I will better be able to accept His grace.

What is fascinating to me is that, no matter how much I worry and toil, lose sleep due to tossing and turning and thinking, that God's grace surrounds me, covering me like a warm blanket on a cold winter night, and makes everything ok. The fact that He always cares for us never ceases to amaze me. That after every worrysome situation I enter into, I can look back, grin to myself, and thing "If only I had had a little more faith. If only I had trusted Him a little more, and myself a little less, life would have been so much easier." I love that He doesn't give up even when I do. That His grace continues to abound, no matter how many times I may stumble and fall. What patience and love He has.

His grace is irresistible. His grace is perfect. His grace is sufficient. His grace is exactly what I need. Always.

Stop this Train

I never thought the day would come. Four years of memories thrown into boxes, mostly labeled stuff, but an attempt had been made to organize them. The sky looked melancholy, and large droplets of rain poured out of the sky. It was fitting, for I felt that at any moment, tears could pour out of my eyes in just the same way. Soaked after loading both my mom's car and my Liberty, I finally slipped in the car and sighed to myself. I started the car, and John Mayer blared through my speakers as I drove to lunch. As I turned on to Highway 6 for what I knew would be the last time as a Waco resident, "Stop This Train" by John Mayer came on. This was the moment I'd been dreading. Crocadile tears swelled in my eyes, and eventually trickled down my face. Life was changing, and I knew I was sure to change also. Everything was unknown.

One year later, it was another friday. The air reeked of rain, and the humidity made walking outside feel more like taking a shower. As I cruised down the streets of northwest Plano, streets that now felt like home, the same song came on shuffle on my iPod. "Stop this Train..." It's strange that the same song takes on such different meaning now.

It still feels surreal. I'm an adult. My days of being completely surrounded by people my age are over. Have I learned? More than probably any year of my life. Has it been difficult? At times. Am I more sure than ever that I am where God wants me, that He is strengthening my faith, and that He is molding me into who He wants me to be? Absolutely.

I love that He has a plan and is sovereign, and that He uses hard situations to draw us closer to Him, like a father gently yet securely holding His child.

See once in a while when it's good
It'll feel like it should
And they're all still around
And you're still safe and sound
And you don't miss a thing
'Til you cry when you're driving away in the dark

Singing stop this train, I want to get off and go home again
I can't take the speed it's moving in
I know I can't
'Cause now I see I'll never stop this train.

Stressing surrender

Stress- physical, mental, or emotional strain or tension. Change- to make the form, nature, content, future course, etc., of (something) different from what it is or from what it would be if left alone. For me, these two concepts seem to go hand in hand. And also come around together. Stress is something I've struggled with for years. My stomach knots, and I cannot eat or sleep. I look like a zombie and act like a lunatic. I pace. I exercise. But that doesn't seem to help the simple fact that things will change and I will stress.

Two or three years ago, I saw Evan Almighty in theaters. And loved it. Lame, I know. I think Steve Carrell is hilarious, and I can vividly picture myself laughing so hard I cried at multiple points in the movie. For me, though, the most memorable part was not some witty line of comedic genius, but a quote that has stuck in my head time and time again. Lauren Graham, Steve Carrell's wife in the movie, is upset that their family is being torn apart by the fact that her husband is building an arc. She is upset and keeps praying for her family to stop fighting, and for them to be able to love each other again. God's answer to her? (disguised as a man at a skuzzy truck stop) Let me ask you something. If someone prays for patience, you think God gives them patience? Or does he give them the opportunity to be patient? If he prayed for courage, does God give him courage, or does he give him opportunities to be courageous? If someone prayed for the family to be closer, do you think God zaps them with warm fuzzy feelings, or does he give them opportunities to love each other?

This really rang true to me. How many times have I, as a Christian, prayed for the ability to be able to love someone and just expected for God to make me a loving person? How many times have I asked that He will help me to "cast my anxiety upon Him", and naively think that He will just remove my fears and worries from me? I don't think God works this way. He wants us to be so wholly dependent on Him, that simply providing us or taking away what we ask (in these situations) does no good. It does not glorify Him. It does not make us more like Christ. I still struggle to grasp this concept.

A devotional e-mail I read today said it like this "The practice of surrender requires perseverance." Praying for that steadfastness.