In The Grip Of Grace

Max Lucado's Introduction to his book In The Grip Of Grace:

My only qualification for writing a book on grace is the clothing I wear. Let me explain. For years I owned an elegant suit complete with coat, trousers, even a hat. I considered myself quite dapper in the outfit and was confident others agreed.

The pants were cut from the cloth of my good works, sturdy fabric of deeds done and projects completed. Some studies here, some sermons there. Many people complimented my trousers, and I confess, I tended to hitch them up in public so people would notice them.

The coat was equally impressive. It was woven together from my convictions. Each day I dressed myself in deep feelings of religious fervour. My emotions were quite strong. So strong, in fact, that I was often asked to model my cloak of zeal in public gatherings to inspire others. Of course I was happy to comply.

While there I'd also display my hat, a feathered cap of knowledge. Formed with my own hands from the fabric of personal opinion, I wore it proudly. Surely God is impressed with my garments, I often thought. Occasionally I strutted into his presence so he could compliment the self-tailored wear. He never spoke. His silence must mean admiration, I convinced myself.

But then my wardrobe began to suffer. The fabric of my trousers grew thin. My best works started coming unstitched. I began leaving more undone than done, and what little I did was nothing to boast about.

No problem, I thought. I'll work harder.

But working harder was a problem. There was a hole in my coat of convictions. My resolve was threadbare. A cold wind cut into my chest. I reached up to pull my hat down firmly, and the brim ripped off in my hands.

Over a period of a few months, my wardrobe of self-righteousness completely unraveled. I went from tailored gentlemen's apparel to beggars' rags. Fearful that God might be angry at my tattered suit, I did my best to stitch it together and cover my mistakes. But the cloth was so worn. And the wind was so icy. I gave up. I went back to God. (Where else could I go?)

On a wintry Thursday afternoon, I stepped into his presence, not for applause, but for warmth. My prayer was feeble.

"I feel naked."

"You are. And you have been for a long time."

What he did next I'll never forget. "I have something to give you," he said. He gently removed the remaining threads and then picked up a robe, a regal robe, the clothing of his own goodness. He wrapped it around my shoulders. His words to me were tender. "My son, you are now clothed wtih Christ" (Gal 3:27). Though I'd sung the hymn a thousand times, I finally understood it:

Dressed in his righteousness alone,
faultless to stand before the throne.

a humbling state of humiliation

Have you ever gone through a period of time in your life where you can't seem to do anything right? Where you seem to all of a sudden be falling short of all the standards or guidelines you have steadfastly set in front of yourself and always prided yourself on keeping? And, no matter what you tried, you continually failed, doing the very things you swore you'd never do - those very things you looked down at others for doing. What a humbling place - and what a humiliating place. But oh, how necessary because, once we realize that we are incapable of standing firm on our own - once we truly realize that we just as easily fall into sin as the next person - then, and only then, can we truly start to understand and experience Grace.

I am in the middle of that place and learning about Grace as never before. Let me explain. My entire life I have been the model 'good Christian girl.' Meaning that I managed to keep my 'filthy rags' hidden very well under a thin veneer of abstaining from the obvious sinful actions of most typical teenagers. This brought me to always assume that I was above those actions - building an almost indetectable pride within me. A puritanical pride that said to myself that God was a little bit happier with me because I could follow my own set of structured rules perfectly.

Now this set of structured rules was carefully crafted to make me look grand. As long as I kept these specific standards upheld in my life, I was ok - I was pleasing to God. Because I am in constant fear of disappointing God and people in my life, it is easier for me to first define exactly what their expectations are, and then legalistically live up to them. However, God doesn't work like that.

The days started coming when I began to bend my rigid lines...and then even further to completely breaking them! I would look back in horror at a freshly broken line - incredulous that I had actually broken those boundaries that I had always carefully set before myself. Then I'd feel like I couldn't pray - like I couldn't connect with God as I had before that line was broken in my life. As if breaking an obvious rule made God love me less. This happened over and over again - and I have been shocking myself and disappointing myself and feeling like God was horribly shocked and disappointed in my actions. After all, I knew better, didn't I? How could I actually be letting myself do the things I had always been cautioned against and had laughed at the possibilty of me doing?

I believe that God has allowed me to fail my structured set of rules in my head in order to point out that (1) I am just as sinful as anyone else, (2) I am incapable of keeping myself on track, and (3) no matter what I do, I cannot either impress God or disappoint Him. He made me - He knows me better than I know myself - and loves me unconditionally yesterday, today and forever - no matter what I do. Ever. He sees what I am capable of with regards to sin - and He delights in the potential He has given me to glorify Him in the midst of my sinfulness.

I have sunk to a new low in my eyes. And by this I have come to a new realization of what I am in God's eyes - righteous. Not by anything I do or don't do, but by His Grace. Then I went home on the weekend and my mother gave me a book to read - without knowing how directly it applied to my current situation. In The Grip Of Grace by Max Lucado. Then I read in devotions Sunday night to "Let circumstances take you where they will, but keep drawing on the grace of God in whatever condition you may find yourself. One of the greatest proofs that you are drawing on the grace of God is that you can be totally humiliated before others without displaying even the slightest trace of anything but His grace." Not that I must keep on sinning to further prove His Grace (Rom 6:1,2) - but that as I sin, realize it, and am humiliated - that then points to God and His Grace. "I must be even more careful to put into action God's saving work in my life, obeying God with deep reverence and fear. For God is working in me, giving me the desire to obey Him and the power to do what pleases Him." (Phil 2:12,13)

anyway

bless the day this restoration is complete
dirty, dusty, something must be underneath
so I scrape and I scuff
though it's never quite enough
I am starting to see me
finally

a gallery of paintings new
and paintings old
guess its no surprise that I’m no
michaelangelo

every layer of mine
hides a lovely design
it might take a little patience
it might take a little time

but you called me
beautiful
when you saw my shame
and you placed me on the wall
anyway

you who have begun this work will someday see
a portrait of the holiness you meant for me
so I polish and shine till its easier to find
even an outline of mine

~Nichole Nordeman~Wide Eyed~Anyway~

Powerful Pornography

I have never really thought much about this issue (probably because I am a girl and females don't have the same struggles as males) but I read "The Seduction of Pornography" on the Boundless Webzine today and it really opened my eyes to the destruction pornography has the ability to wreak. And it scared me. This has the power to destroy women because it builds up expectations and ideals that real women in real life can never - and aren't supposed to - measure up to. Are we doomed to forever be a disappointment now? It is way too easy to access, nevermind hide, pornographic media. Is there hope? Is there still a smidgen of purity left? I'd like to hear what some guys have to say about this article, this topic, and what a girl like me can do to help her brothers in Christ. For now, I will start by pleading with God to grant His strength to Christian men - to salvage and purify this once-beautiful-now-horribly-twisted part of creation.

gone are the days

do I dare even wear what I was thinking of
my true colors bleeding on my sleeve?
do I chance the romance that I've been dreaming of
instead of wishing for it quietly?

always at a distance, I wish you'd safely stayed
despite my resistance, you sought me anyway

gone are the days of all that I was afraid of
I've left behind the traces of who I've been
no longer able to wrestle with this angel
and the closer you get, I can let you love me

I had found it was easier to dance around
the edges of who I could be
if I chose to expose what grows deep down
would you still desire what you see?

no more self-rejection no longer paralyzed
this holy perfection is me inside your eyes

never mind this mirror hanging on the wall
cause I could not pretend to be the fairest of them all
took a hammer to the glass
to shatter all the pieces
the pieces of my past

~Nichole Nordeman~Wide Eyed~Gone Are The Days~

Nichole Nordeman

Nichole Nordeman is an incredible Chrsitian artist and if you are a fan of female soloists who write, play and sing amazing lyrics I recommend you purchase a CD or two - Wide Eyed is her first and my favourite. Therefore, over the next few days I am going to do a 'series' of sorts and post lyrics to her songs that have really spoken to me and, in a sense, 'pulled me through' rough times.

I'm good, how are you?

"Good morning, Redeemer University College." I repeat that phrase hundreds of times throughout the day. Occasionally, the caller won't cut me off brusquely with their desired extension and the conversation will actually resemble the following format:

"Good morning, how are you?" A pleasant voice queries on the other end of the line.

"Good, how are you?" Comes my automatic response, having ears only for the extension that comes next.

But I am not "good." Not by any such stretch of the imagination. I was "good" a couple of days ago when I posted about how blessed I am. That was then. Now as I watch the torrential downpour just outside my office window, I feel that it echoes the weather of my heart. So does the haunting music of Evanescence. I want to retreat. I want to run away. Or at least lock myself alone in a room and curl up into a little ball and soak my thoughts in the permeating melancholy of Sarah McLachlan and Chantal Kreviazuk and release body-wracking sobs of unintelligible prayers - allowing them to seep heart-wrenchingly from my veins - reaching, aching, yearning for my Daddy to wrap me in His loving embrace. But I can't do that. I have a roommate. And a job. And a boyfriend. And more friends than I can keep caught up with or feel connected to. And a family. And grocery shopping and volunteering with Salvation Army and the list goes on. There are things to do, people to see, smiles to paste on, laughs to force, tears to dry, duties to fulfill - no time to dust off the shelves of my heart and dig down into the little crevices and seek healing for the wounds that are bottled up and buried there. "Whom shall I fear?" I fear a lot of things. It is a controlling fear - a ship-wrecking fear. I fear disclosing who I really am because it is bound to get rejected.

Oh, I'm sure this is just a mood swing - don't worry, soon I'll be back in a position where I can continue to post the "uplifting" stuff Amyanners thinks is my usual style. But it is not. Not really. Not if I am Honest and Real and Genuine. (PS - I love Amyann a lot.)

But no one needs to see this. More so, no one ever wants to see this. The dark side should always remain hidden, correct? Muffled, snuffed out, rejected, forgotten, smothered. We hate messes - so we shove them under the carpet instead of cleaning them up properly. We hate to see people falling apart because it reminds us that we too are falling apart. Well I will be honest. I feel like I am falling apart. Fraying at the seams. I have no logical reasons. I can't explain to others what I cannot understand myself. But it cannot be denied. But who ever wants to listen to this? Read this? It's scary. Not fun. We are supposed to be as positive and happy and bouncy as possible. Yay life is soooooooooo fun and I am soooooooooo happy and there is never a dull moment, nevermind a depressed moment. HELLO???

Thoughts run thrugh my head like a radio tuned into 25 different stations at once.

I'm in a tangled web - out at sea with waves and breakers crashing over my head
Swallowed up in the sound of my screaming
Without the mask where will I hide
I can't find myself lost in my lies
Help me Believe
'Cause I don't wanna miss any miracles
Maybe I'd see much better by closing my eyes for once
And I would shed this grown-up skin I'm in to touch an angel's wing
And I would be Free
Oh how I long for the deep sleep dreaming
The gardens of imaginary life
But You called me Beautiful when You saw my shame
Gasping for breath
Rasping for breath
Grasping for Breath
I asked for matches and I received a gallon full of gasoline
Our God is a Consuming Fire Heb 12:29
Arise
Come
My Darling
My Beautiful One
Come with Me Song of Songs 2:13
My heart has heard You say, "Come and talk with me"
And my heart responds, "Lord, I am coming." Ps 27:8
You don't have to figure everything out for it to happen in your life
If you wait for the perfect conditions, you will never get anything done Ecc 11:4

Something is brewing. Deep in the darkest parts, something big is billowing closer. I've felt this past year build, escalate to this point. There is much more escalation to come before it is over.

Over the past year I have drifted embarrassingly far from Jesus - and recently ran back full force even closer into His faithful loving arms. But with that comes awareness and struggle and a WAR. The closer we desire to be to Jesus, the less complacent we become, the more we play offensively. That pisses Satan off and he attacks more. Happy go-lucky ineffective "good Christian people" aren't bothered by him because they aren't taking the offense. They actually don't even need to be on the defense because they aren't causing a ruckus. They can't relate to a life of struggle and battle. But the more you try to really become a living sacrifice - a shining reflection of Christ, the more you get shot at - we are pressed but not crushed...(2 Cor 4:7-10) - but then you must depend more on Jesus Christ for supernatural strength. We aren't meant to be happy and content. We are meant to be STRONG in the JOY of the LORD (Neh 8:10). Why would we need that kind of supernatural strength if not for a raging intense battle? Why would we need to be more than conquerors (Rom 8:37) if not to conquer victoriously in a WAR? Sound the battle cry. Renounce Satan's lies and doubts and fears and worries planted deeply in our minds and hearts. Replace that empty space with God's TRUTH and God's LOVE and God's POWER - standing strong in the mighty armour of God (Eph 6:10-18).

I don't trust myself. Because I am not capable on my own. And it is taking every ounce of energy in the entirety of my being to trust Christ one moment at a time (Prov 3:5,6).

I'm good thanks, how are you?

BLESSED

I am so blessed. Special thanks to Annie Ling for her encouraging and uplifting ways - God's orchestration of delightful details is wonderful! And specifically thanks for the CD she made me on Monday. This song is on there and I, although sharing lyrics seems like all I have been doing on this site lately, simply must share it! Oh the true meaning of trusting that God directs our every step and walking in the assurance of being His treasured possession!

Who am I?
That the Lord of all the earth would care to know my name, would care to feel my hurt
Who am I?
That the Bright and Morning Star would choose to light the way for my ever wandering heart

Not because of who I am, but because of what You've done
Not because of what I've done, but because of who You are

I am a flower quickly fading, here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean, a vapor in the wind
Still You hear me when I'm calling
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling
And You've told me who I am...
I am Yours

Who am I?
That the eyes that see my sin would look on me with love and watch me rise again
Who am I?
That the voice that calmed the sea would call out through the rain and calm the storm in me

I am Yours
Whom shall I fear?
Whom shall I fear?
'Cause I am Yours

~I Am Yours by Casting Crowns

Stir Me

So I've been reading a lot lately. And one book that has been incredibly inspiring is "Living Faith" by Helen Roseveare (listed on the right-->). Throughout the book her theme is based on an old hymn which uses the phrase 'Stir me, Lord!'. To illustrate her point she tells a story from the mission base in Africa where she worked for many years.

Several boys were helping her paint the church building. She gave them the paint cans and brushes and asked them if they knew what they were doing. The said yes and she left them for the morning. Going back in the afternoon, she noticed that, although they seemed to be working hard, there was just a clear finish over everything - not the white coat of paint she expected to see. Confused, she went over to where they were working to investigate. It turns out that they were doing everything right - except they had forgotton to stir the cans of paint! Unmixed cans of paint are useless. Her point here is that we must be stirred by God - passsion stirred up from the very bottom of our hearts and mixed throughout our entire being. She talks about how the stirring is not fun and that it can be painful and tedious and hard - but that it is necessary.

Stir me, oh stir me Lord, I care not how,
But stir my heart in passion for the world.
Stir me to give, to go, but most to pray.
Stir until the blood-red banner be unfurled
O'er lands that still in darkness lie
O'er lands where no cross is lifted high.

Stir me, oh, stir me, Lord, till all my heart
Is filled with strong compassion for lost souls,
Till Thy compelling “must” drives me to pray,
Till Thy constraining love reach to the poles.
Far north and south, in burning deep desire.
Till east and west are caught in love's great fire!

Stir me, oh stir me Lord, till prayer is pain,
Till prayer is joy, till prayer turns into praise.
Stir me till heart and mind and will - yea, all
Is wholly Thine to use through all the days.
Stir till I learn to pray exceedingly
Stir till I learn to wait expectantly.

Stir me, oh, stir me, Lord! Thy heart was stirred
By love's intensest fire, till Thou didst give
Thine only Son, Thy best-beloved One,
E'en to the dreadful cross, that I might live:
Stir me to give myself so back to thee
That Thou canst give Thyself again, -- through me.

Stir me, oh, stir me, Lord! For I can see
Thy glorious triumph day begin to break.
The dawn already gilds the eastern sky.
Oh church of Christ, arise! Awake! Awake!
Oh, stir us, Lord, as heralds of that day!
The night is past - our King is on His Way!

~Hymn by Bessie Porter Head

Then Sings My Soul

Today I spent my lunch hour in the piano room at Redeemer University College. My music, as mentioned throughout many of my posts, reflects my heart, my soul - what I am feeling on the inside is expressed through the sounds released by my fingers on the keys.

Initially my song was sorrowful, confused, anxious, hesitant - and in a minor key. My feelings definitely were of the minor key sort and I lingered on the dissonant tones and plaintive harmonies.

I then spent some time in prayer. Casual prayer to be sure - merely speaking my thoughts aloud to the omniscient God that surrounds me always. Frustrations poured out of me - and questions and worries and fears - everything that I had just played was now put into words to flow from my heart to my Father's hands.

Then I sat down at the piano once more, determined to praise God instead of hosting a pity party for myself. My fingertips sought out a major key this time, composing something more confident and joyous - yet peaceful. I pressed into the tune, feeling God's assurance and love wash over me, replacing my insecurities and doubt.

It was then that it hit me. I realized that the progression of my left hand was actually the same as it had been before - only in a different order! God had taken my minor sorrow and confusion and transformed it into major joy and peace. And that is what He is doing with my life. He transforms the little minor problems and struggles that I go through, as I redirect them to Him, into major milestones of praise and worship and blessing!

Then sings my soul,
My Saviour, God - to You!
How great You are
How great You are

the need for brokenness...

I sometimes read this daily devotional online called Soul Journey and today's was about brokenness and I felt like sharing it with the rest of you.

We are taught as kids to hate broken things—broken toys, broken bones, broken promises. But that’s not the way God looks at it. God delights in brokenness, because it is in our brokenness that He can begin to do in our lives all the things He longs to do.

Have you ever been broken? Brokenness says not only “God, I need You,” but also “God, You are all I need.” Brokenness is having desperation for Him. It’s empty-handedness before God. It has no demands, and makes no requests. Brokenness is falling into the embrace of your loving Father and finding Him to be enough. Brokenness is saying no to the clamoring voice of your flesh, no to the pride and self-confidence that has made you so restless and unhappy for so long, and saying yes to the longing for God that is deep within every person’s soul.

If I want God to work in me, what exactly must be broken?

My independence. “I can make it without You, God.”
My willfulness. “You can’t make me. You can’t tell me.”
My stubbornness. “I’m going to do this my way.”
My pride. “I will protect my interests, my reputation, my position.”

All of these attitudes keep God from showing up in our lives, so they’re the things He will seek to remove. He uses tools like broken health, broken careers, broken dreams, broken relationships, broken promises, and broken hearts.

The purpose of brokenness is to bring us to the point where we can say to God, “Not only do I need You, but You are all I need.” —James MacDonald

bottom line: Brokenness is a route to wholeness.

Psalm 51:10-17
Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me from Your presence or take Your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of Your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me. Then I will teach transgressors Your ways, and sinners will turn back to You. Save me from bloodguilt, O God, the God who saves me, and my tongue will sing of Your righteousness. O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare Your praise. You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it; You do not take pleasure in burnt offerings. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, You will not despise.

What area of pride is the Lord highlighting in my heart right now? I’ll get a piece of paper and pen and get alone with God, and ask Him to identify areas of my will that need to be broken.