15 - grace & Mercy
Today, Griff’s going to get an allowance he didn’t earn. Tonight, while Eliza’s at Girl Scouts, I’m going to clean her room. Every now and then, we all need a little unexpected mercy. A little grace to tide us through the tough times.
I’m thankful for parents who give that to their children, to spouses who extend that to their loves, to friends who make an effort.
Mostly, I’m grateful I have a Saviour who sees in me something He loves enough to save every day.
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day 3… a new chance
Today I’m thankful for second chances. We all need them. We all reach a point at one time or another (multiple times if you’re me) where we cannot go forward without them. I am grateful that my God is one who grants second chances, that He seems to relish in providing opportunities to those who seek them from Him.
I am thankful to the people who have given me second chances through the years. And I am thankful for the opportunities to provide people with second chances. Sometimes, those are the moments in which I find myself the most.
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NaBloPoMo
It must be November 1 if it’s NaBloPoMo. I think they’ve started doing this all the time over there, but originally it was just in November. I haven’t always done it every year, but I’ve loved to try. So here goes.
This November, my daily posting is going to be something I’m grateful for, in no particular order. I’m quite good at no particular order.
Today, I’m grateful to the friend who unwittingly gave me the theme for this month. She and I have been friends for quite nearly forever. We haven’t lived in the same state in almost 20 years, but that hasn’t stopped our friendship. Time and distance won’t slow this love. This is one of those enduring loves of the ages. We loved each other when we were gangly and awkward and scared of our shadows.
And we love each other now that we are strong and poised and scared of our children’s shadows. God gave you to me when I needed you, knowing that I would need you forever.
So, today, LeeAnn, I am thankful for you. Happy Nov. 1.
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and so it went…
A few months ago, I wrote a post entitled ‘and so it goes’ about an on-going struggle I have with my parents and their need to advise me of the sins they see in my life. At the time of that post, I hadn’t answered my weekly call from my parents for several weeks and wasn’t certain how to proceed. Soon after, I decided, as usual, to ignore the whole affair and move onward.
I placed a call to them one random Saturday and chatted about our usual superficial topics and moved on. Things were fine. You know, our version of fine. And in my reality, it’s a pretty good fine, I think. No one’s on drugs. No one’s abusing one another (I know, Terri, that some might view this as emotional or verbal abuse). A nice, superficial fine.
The first year we were in Florida, my parents came to visit for Thanksgiving, and they’ve just invited themselves ever since. It is my least favorite holiday anyway, and their visit only enhances my feelings. A few weeks ago, while on the phone with my mom, I heard my dad tell my mom to ask me if they were still invited for Thanksgiving. Griff was sitting next to me, so I simply said yes.
The next day, I sent a simple email telling them that I understood that Dad felt it was his Christian duty to point out our sins but that we didn’t feel like we needed him to do that. We are living our lives in the manner we feel is best. And we are requesting they not do that. I said that if they could come visit and not critique our lives, they were more than welcome. Weeks passed.
Last night, I got an email telling us they couldn’t abide by our request and that they would not be joining us for Thanksgiving. I was stunned. I probably shouldn’t have been, but I was. I am.
It is inconceivable to me that someone would choose the option of telling someone what they see as a sin in their lives rather than the opportunity to see a grandchild who lives halfway across the country. I don’t understand it. I am disappointed… in them, and in ways I cannot explain, in me.
Both of my parents have ended friendships when they couldn’t agree. Neither of my parents speak to their siblings. I have every intention of continuing to make calls and to continue my lovely superficial relationship, and while I certainly hope it is not the case, I wonder if this is the beginning of the end for me… if I am being written off just as their siblings were.
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grace…
A few days ago, as I was driving to work, I was thinking about the difference between my parents’ view on life and my own. I think a lot of it comes down to the fact that they both tend to lean toward the Old Testament theories of holding to the Law while I tend to lean toward the New Testament theories of grace. Which got me to thinking about grace and mercy and why I’m having a hard time moving back toward a closer relationship with Christ.
And it’s more than a little shameful if I admit the truth.
Which, of course means I must admit the truth. Right? So here goes. If only to say it out loud to myself. I believe that we don’t earn God’s love, that He gives it freely. And I believe that He’ll take us back after we wander if our hearts are genuine. And I am genuinely ready to be back in fellowship with Him. But I feel badly approaching Him, like I don’t deserve it. I know. I’d tell anyone else that none of us deserve it. But I’m the queen of the double standard. And so, because I don’t feel like I am worthy or ok to approach Him, I don’t. Which only compounds the problem.
We are attending this new church and enjoying it, which is the first time we’ve enjoyed a church situation we moved. And we’re enjoying the fellowship with other Christians. Oddly enough, it’s the prayer time - which I used to enjoy so much - that I still find so difficult.
Ironic, isn’t it, that I believe so strongly in grace and mercy and attempt to practice it in my life, and yet am having such trouble accepting it in my own?
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