Grace...it's more about me

I've been thinking about the concept of grace lately. It's not a lesson I sought out or from a profound sermon. It's just sort of that, "hmmm...so that's a little tiny miniscule glimpse of how this is supposed to work...huh," feeling. It's not new and unique and a big deal. Just a little tiny perspective that maybe I've forgotten lately.

You see, something happened that was hurtful. Something happened that I didn't like. I wanted to speak up, get on my haughty soap box, put on my glasses, slide them to the bottom of my nose and point my finger. Loudly. Just to make sure everyone was aware of this wrongdoing and would be on "my side." OK not really, but that's what feeling did go through my head for about a minute when I was really frustrated.

Fortunately, that's not reality and those thoughts never did escape my mind and become actions. I didn't really want to do that. I was just annoyed. I'm human. The truth is that I didn't know what to do. I prayed about it. I forgave. And then it went back to normal. We talked. Things are fine. And it was all "nice" again.

Nice bothered me. It didn't seem right or fair or just. But I was put in a position where kindness - the kind of biblical kindness that we corrupt in churches and mistake with being fake - was what was needed. God wanted me to genuinely care for and respond with grace.

Grace. It's not something I deserve. God gives it to me despite me. God gives it to me when I realize my wrongs and feel like I deserve it. God gives it to me when I'm oblivious to the disaster of me and don't even feel like I deserve it. God gives it to me because that is who He is and how He loves. It has nothing to do with me.

Why is it that we seem to think we have a right to determine how to be graceful? How to show kindness and compassion and love and mercy? Why is it that I thought I had a right to determine whether or not to show grace to this person who wronged me, contingent on whether or not I could clearly broadcast how "right" I was and how "wrong" they were. (Insert sarcasm...for the point being made here, I hope you know what I mean.)

What I'm not saying is that now I know everything about grace. What I'm not saying is that feelings and hurts and pains are meant to be glossed over and replaced with a phony, plastic smile. What I'm not saying is that there's no time for justice and truth. But what I am saying is that maybe - just maybe - our dispensing of grace, if you claim to be one who follows Jesus, should be more based on who we are and our desire to share love with others like God loves us, knowing it's never going to be perfect, and less about how the other person may or may not react or deserve.

There's the old saying that we can't control other people but we can control how we respond. And I'm reminded that responding in grace has less to do with the other person and is more dependent on me. And it's good.

September 15 & October 12

Three years ago, on September 15, 2006, I received a phone call. This person had what was meant to be "good" news for me - a job offer, doing what I loved to do in a city that I liked listing. Little did he know, I had to hang up the phone as fast as possible because I burst out in tears.

And they were not tears of joy.

But I was excited for what God was doing and trusted in that. I was excited to be back in full-time student ministry and looked forward to that. And I was sure it was a good thing and took confidence in that.

So on October 12, 2006, Amy and I arrived in a Penske truck at 2 a.m. with everything I owned.

Well, three years later, exactly to the date from when I got the job offer, on September 15, 2009, I mailed a letter to the congregation of the church where I've been in youth ministry for these three years explaining that my time is coming to an end. And again, there were tears.

And, again, they were not tears of joy.

On October 12, 2009,  I'll be driving back to Colorado. I'm not moving this time, but I'll be there for a month.

Just made me sort of half-smile laugh when I realized these two dates. Not planned. Just sort of happened.

Three years. WOW! The life that happened in between?! So much more than I could have imagined. And it was better than good.

Been a while...

Reading a friend's blog today, I thought to myself, "wow, she hasn't blogged in over a month!"

Then I got to the RSS feed for my blog.

Oops.

The past month has been an interesting one. There's been a lot going on, to be honest, but I have yet to figure out what all is worthy of blog posting.

There was a trip to Chicago to see my family, which was so relaxing. Typically, ventures back to good ol' Elmhurst are too short and have agendas too long. This time, I went just to visit. Yup - just to visit. No holiday, conference, funeral, wedding or other obligation. It was just to visit. I spent more time with my parents than usual and had longer conversations with old friends than have been had in years.

I spent a week sick. Good ol' flu. Might have been the swine variety, but who knows? I spent a week with reruns of scary cop shows that make me afraid to turn the lights off at night. Yes, it's ridiculous. And yes, the fact that I continue watching them is even more ridiculous. But whatever. They're addicting and perfect for having no energy to do anything else.

There have been a few more weeks in there with lots of interesting conversations and happenings. I've continued to take advantage of all Austin and the Hill Country has to offer, read a few good books and actually am back to running "normal" runs again...without any complaints from my pesky knee. That's been probably the highlight of this weekend.

I'll write more. Soon. Give me a week or so and check back again. It'll be good...I promise...