Relapse (Or, Grace Upon Grace)

It always happens the same way. Stress tends to build up like a slow but severe snow storm and, before I know it, I’m snowed in. Or, rather, “stressed”-in. I have lost the simplistic joy I once felt. I have mistaken jokes for criticisms and companionship for annoyance. I have done what I do best in tumult – hide. I take introversion too far. I snap at people. I neglect the needs and desires of those around me. I cannot see above the obligations, the homework, the work hours, the confusion. I cannot see God. I slip into the sin that so easily entangles and I cannot find my way out. The tension within stretches and snaps my frail defenses.

But God (the two greatest words in my opinion), in his infinite wisdom, draws me back to himself like an adoring father forgiving his daughter, like a patient lover restoring his bride. I don’t know why he wants me again. After letting the things of this world almost crowd him out of my vision, I do not understand why he would fight to be my vision and fight to win back my heart.

But he is. He is fighting for me. Early last week, I flipped my Bible open to 2 Chronicles 20, when God tells the people that they need only to “stand firm” while he fights on their behalf. God’s got this. He knows what he’s doing.

I could have sworn that the gorgeous, warm day we had this past Sunday was created just for me. Warm weather is a blessing to the soul, and I welcomed it wholeheartedly by letting two friends convince me to hammock with them. I read Edith Wharton while lying in a friend’s hammock and experiencing a strange sense of peace. It was as if I had vitamin D deficiency and the sunshine was recharging a battery of sorts. A physical battery and an emotional battery.

We read from Job on Sunday morning and I was reminded of Job’s blatant finite-ness compared with the amazingly infinite God he served.

Then Job replied to the Lord: “I know that You can do anything, and no one can stop You. You asked, ‘Who is this that questions My wisdom with such ignorance?’ It is I--and I was talking about things I knew nothing about, things far too wonderful for me… I had only heard about You before, but now I have seen You with my own eyes. I take back everything I said, and I sit in dust and ashes to show my repentance.”

(Job 42:1-3,5-6)

It is in the place of brokenness, when have not spent with time with God earlier, when we are falling into sin and fear, that we often call out to God to save us. I wonder if God gets upset with us. If you had just stayed with me earlier, you wouldn't be in this mess, I imagine him saying sometimes. Yet that doesn't sound like God. God doesn't bring up all the bad things Job must have done to be deserving this pain, but he does ask Job who he thinks he is. Job answers by saying, “I admit it. I was the one. I babbled on about things far beyond me, made small talk about wonders way over my head” (Job 42:5, MSG). God demonstrates his omnipotence and omniscience in this situation and he proves Job's (and man's as a whole) nothingness.

Yet I don't think that God was necessary angry in the last couple chapters of Job. I think he was acting like a powerful father in a kind of protective rage. In a sense, he wants to prove man's nothingness so man will return to him with all he is. God isn't sitting up on some cloud berating me for the combination of circumstances and mistakes that led to this stressful situation. God isn't criticizing me for not running to Him at first sight of what I could not handle.

He’s standing here with his arms open. He is asking me to come back.

This world is not our home and it will not treat us kindly or fairly, but take heart, because He has overcome the world.

John 1, while describing Jesus's incarnation, pauses for a minute to discuss Christ in relation to the law. Basically, where the law could not provide peace or salvation for us, Christ does. God's unfailing love came from Christ, not from the law we couldn't keep. John 1:16 says, "From [Christ's] abundance we have all received one gracious blessing after another."

The English Standard Version comes close to what I've read that the original Greek means. It translates "one gracious blessing after another" as "grace upon grace." The Amplified Bible translates it as "gift heaped upon gift." My friends, even in our times of relapse, brokenness, shame, pain, or confusion... Because Christ came and died for us, we have grace heaped upon grace freely available.

He is a God who welcomes us back.

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This post was contributed to Only a Breath's Monthly link-up party for OneWord365 bloggers on March 14th, 2013. 

Impossible

It's become almost like a curse word to me now: the "i" word. Let me explain...

My last full day in Asia, my own shortsightedness and humanity hit me in the face. For all my group's previous large-group meetings, we had been in a fairly big room with a projector, floor to ceiling windows, and several rows of chairs. Yet for some reason, we were scheduled to gather in a much smaller room for our final meeting. My roommate and I arrived around 8 minutes early to find the room empty, save for a few scattered tables. We were very confused.

A minute later, a man arrived who would be conducting part of the meeting. He clarified who he was and that this was the room we were meeting in, and then he asked for our help to arrange the room. We began folding tables and unstacking chairs as more people arrived. Soon, there were at least ten of us arranging rows and occasionally pausing to count the chairs.

The entire time, I kept saying to myself and, even more unfortunately, to the people around me: "This is not going to work. There isn't enough room. This area is too small. How are we going to fit more than seventy people in here?" I remember once, leaning over to my roommate and saying a bit too loudly, "This is just impossible."

Less than ten minutes later, the room was arranged and seating was provided for more than seventy people.

When I realized what had just happened, I felt extremely humiliated. I found a seat on the second row and sat down, feeling awkward and probably blushing a bit. The good news is that the man who had asked us to help wasn't bothered at all by my doubt, and he struck up a conversation with me before the meeting started.

It occurred to me later that God did a lot of impossible things this summer. I mean, seriously, I lived half-way around the world for more than five weeks and not only survived, but loved it. My team and I led, organized, and taught a three-week English camp to almost 200 Asian teenagers. I built friendships with my team, my students, and a bunch of Lao college kids that I hope will be lasting. I saw the need for prayer and some methods of prayer and I discovered the importance of intentionality in relationships. I lost my wallet, but thankfully not my ID or passport, and I received my replacement debit card in the mail in perfect timing. And, with about 9 other people, I set up seventy chairs in a room which I thought could not hold that many people.

And I realized: Nothing is impossible for God. When I'm putting my trust in the Almighty Father, He is truly that: All. Mighty. Omnipotent. Can't the One who created the world also work in the world? He is not a hands-off God, He is an active and present and all-knowing God.

Nothing is impossible for Him. He works everything out in His ways and with His provision. We may feel as if that limits Him, but it doesn't. It only shows his greatness and omnipotence. I guess I should stop saying that things are impossible. Saying that just proves that I am not trusting my Father. "For nothing is impossible with God." (Luke 1:37)

What I'm Listening To:

"Grace" - Tenth Avenue North

"You Do All Things Well" - Tenth Avenue North