Transformed by Grace

I have a question for those of you who read my last post: how long do you think it took? How long do you think it was before I picked my baggage back up?  Well, not long, I’m afraid before…

I fell.

Yes, I laid down my baggage.

And I placed my eyes firmly on Him.

I forgot about the world…for a while…

but I could still hear them calling me

          to meet THEIR demands

          to fulfill THEIR requirements

          to reach THEIR goals.

And then my eyes slipped…

          Down…

                   Down…

                             Down…

until I was no longer looking at Him at all.

I was looking…

at the world – again.

Looking…

          at myself – again…

                   Inept

                   Hopeless

                   Inadequate

          But I couldn’t let THEM see me.

          Not like that.

          Not the REAL me.

So I climbed on a pedestal –

          A pedestal of perfection.

BUT…

          I fell.

And it hurt…

          It hurt my pride.

          It hurt my witness.

                   It hurt the people around me.

                   The people I love.

                   The people I care about.

BUT…most importantly

          It hurt God.

When

    I

      fell.

I couldn’t let Him find me like that.

So I retrieved my baggage of perfection…

                   Complete with my collection of intricate masks

and master disguises …

          And held it close to my chest

                    Like a child clutching a security blanket

                             And hiding . . .

                                      In fear

                                       In guilt

                                       In shame.

Until He called to me…    

MY CHILD, WHERE ARE YOU?

I fell again.

YOU ARE MY MASTERPIECE.

I am unworthy.

YOU ARE MY CHILD!

But, Lord, Remember when I -

NO, DO YOU REMEMBER I DIED FOR YOU?

But I took my eyes off of you.

SEE MY SCARS?

See my sin?

MY GRACE FORGIVES.

But I failed you!

MY GRACE FORGETS.

And I keep failing you.

MY CHILD,

MY GRACE IS REFINING YOU.

IN THE KNOWLEDGE OF MY WORD

IN THE WISDOM OF MY WAYS

SO THAT SOME DAY YOU MAY BE MATURE AND COMPLETE

        SOME DAY YOU WILL BE PERFECT IN MY IMAGE

BUT YOU WILL NEVER BE PERFECT IN THE IMAGE OF THE WORLD.

                       

                              Help me, Lord,

I do not want to walk with the world.

                                       I do not want to listen to their poisonous promises.

                                       I do not want to trust their deceptive disguises.

                              Help me, Lord,

To trade this endless cycle of worldly perfection

                                                For a cycle of spiritual maturity

                                                         to be transformed

                                                                   day by day

                                                                   minute by minute

                                                                   hour by hour

                                                                   decision by decision

                                                                             into Your image.

So I give You

my weaknesses

          And my masks

          And my disguises

                                      

And I CLIMB onto Your lap

To rest

in Your grace.

To trust

in Your grace.

To grow

in Your grace.

To become a pleasing sacrifice

Transformed

Wholly and acceptable unto You.

~by Robin Kelley

My Baggage of Perfection

I have a confession to make. I care entirely too much what you think. Think about that for a minute. I don't even know exactly who you are. I don't know who is reading this blog. I do know, however, that I spend way too much time and energy worrying about what other people think about what I say or do - or even write.

And that is wrong.

Why is it we will trust God to give us grace and mercy the minute we receive forgiveness and ask Him to be Lord of our lives yet we somehow translate that to mean we miraculously become the perfect woman? Come on, now. I am being totally transparent with you. It is your turn. Be honest with yourself - and with God. Haven't you at some point made the commitment to be the perfect wife or mother? daughter or employee? servant or neighbor? There is no "or" to it. Society demands that we "bring home the bacon AND fry it up in a pan" AND keep the house immaculate AND raise the kids to be perfect AND spend quality time with your husband AND minister to your neighbors .... exhausting ... perfection is exhausting and frustrating and downright depressing. 

Not to mention totally impossible.

And wrong. 

God never called us to be perfect. There isn't one verse in the Bible that commands us to be perfect. We are commanded to love one another as ourselves. We are commanded to have an intimate relationship with Him. We are commanded to tell others about how He died for them. But we are never commanded to be perfect. WE are the ones who picked up that very heavy burden and WE are the ones who insist on carrying it around everywhere we go. 

HE has said HE has BEGUN a good work in us but HE won't complete it until the day of judgement. So when I worry about what you think about me, I am sinning because I am looking at you and not at Him. I am taking my guidance from what I "think" you approve of instead of what really counts - what pleases Him. 

So I have an announcement. 

I am NOT perfect. 

I am NOT the perfect mother, wife, grandmother, mother-in-law, daughter, servant ... and that is ok because

I AM His masterpiece in progress.

And furthermore, I care about you, but I don't care so much what you think of me anymore.

I am laying down my baggage of perfection at Jesus' feet and submitting to His will so be forewarned

I will fall - but He will pick me up.

I will fail - but His grace is sufficient.

For I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me - but I can do nothing on my own!!!

How about you? Where's your baggage of perfection?