When Grace Gets Real

Christians who don't live with bars on either side of their eyes,
Who haven't been set rigidly in place,
Who aren't always organized, who mess up sometimes,
I learn the most about grace from those people.

I was in the wedding of my childhood friend, Emily, two weekends ago.
One of the groomsmen, the groom's best friend, drums for the band Twenty One Pilots.
My conversation with Josh truly affirmed what I think I've always known.

It was so interesting, when he asked me, "Why did you want to go to a Christian school?"
I was at a loss for words.
He's standing there, one arm completely covered in a tattoo sleeve of a tree;
And I'm at a loss for words.

And, for a split second, I find myself judging him for that tattoo.

See, the thing about going to a Christian school is,
You might start developing a picture in your mind of what "Christian" looks like.
Even me, who solemnly promised herself
That she would never be like that, would never do that...
...Would not judge the books by their covers, the people by their tattoos, the girls by their hem length,
Suddenly found herself
A professional.

The summer before college, I'm standing in a basement packed full of Believers,
At a church with no worship group, or even church sanctuary,
Who look nothing like this picture in my mind.
And they're there for the free Christian Apologetics class-
On a Sunday morning.

They weren't getting college credit,
but it was packed-
-Wall to Wall.

There was never enough time for all the questions...
And...woah. The questions.
These people were really brave, unabashed to ask what everyone was thinking.

At a Christian college, these people would most likely be considered
Heavily liberal, over-worldly, doubters
They would get demerits for their clothing
And their cussing
And their (not-getting-drunk) drinking

But they're faith is real.
They are alive in God's grace
They are truly unafraid

When I got to college
I missed them

In Old Testament, with engaged-to-be-married boys in my row
And sitting in front of me,
I had to answer the Song of Solomon question

In Politics, I was the lone
Liberally-inclined thinker in the room
People responded to me like I was a feminist lesbian (Heaven forbid!)

But did I care?
Not really.
But it gets kind of lonely, swimming against the current;
Understanding what it means to be
True to who God made you to be,
Not true to how everyone else looks and acts.

My answer to Josh's question?
"I'm a Christian!"
He blank-stared at me,
And it was in that moment that I remembered...

Those bars?
Their self-imposed.
That culture?
Can be crippling.
That fear?
Is worthless.

I'm remembering what it means to live in God's freedom,
Learning how to love those who squander themselves by not asking questions
And trying their damndest to live lives that look like everyone else's.

And please, do yourself a favor and don't care what other people think about you.
Stop censoring yourself, stop second-guessing;
God is bigger, and you don't have to play by rules that don't matter.

Lyrics that inspired this post:
Little Lion Man; Mumford & Sons

Weep for yourself, my man,
You'll never be what is in your heart
Weep Little Lion Man,
You're not as brave as you were at the start
Rate yourself and rake yourself,
Take all the courage you have left
Wasted on fixing all the problems
That you made in your own head....

....Your grace is wasted in your face,
Your boldness stands alone among the wreck

Brother; Matt Corby

Wait there
Pull yourself out of this state, dear
Acknowledge you were a fake here
From there on you might just grow

Guns For Hands; Twenty One Pilots

The solution is, I see a whole room of these mutant kids,
Fused at the wrist, I simply tell them they should shoot at this,
Simply suggest my chest and this confused music,
It's obviously best for them to turn their guns to a fist.

I'm trying, I'm trying to sleep,
I'm trying, I'm trying to sleep,
But I can't, but I can't when you all have,
Guns for hands.

Chosen.

Every woman needs to be chosen
I've come to this conclusion
That it's every woman
All of them

They all are chosen
Once
By He whose crimson grace ran from his wrists
Drips down to our heads beneath

By choice, some come to know Him
Are awaken to being already chosen
Once
Others wait, chosen-less

The ones who live chosen
Are sometimes chosen again
The others don't breathe right
Until that ring is given

I pray for the day
When Earth's rules are broken
When all of us, together
Share the same Selector

Thus is life.

Thus is life,
One long chain of moment-to-moment victories.

This galloping onward despite
Calcaneus screaming for us to stop,
The flesh hangs down in surrender; Bleeding.

We keep on
Suppressing that still, small voice that hungers to
Be still and know.

Oh, this dancing poly-happening...
Multiple sirs owe us!
We bang our fists on the dinner table.

We keep on,
Suppressing that little hungry voice
Catch your breath, wipe away your tears,
Let's go.

Mentor, Renewer, Friend.

Lurid stain of failure:
My magic marker dug through thin paper,
The visceral covering of my heart.

You knew that color,
Patches of it peeked through your sweatshirt.
My collarbone settled into the curve of your thumb and index finger.

It was like a dream,
Neon gave way to
Pastel harmony.

God was mentioned.
My eyes drew at their corners;
You stared straight inside.

My heartbeat drowned in sobbing noises;
You mentioned Him again,
Admonished to abide in grace, faithfully, again.

When I looked up
Into your eyes,
Your fingers melted through...

This sinking soul; you cradled me.
I felt my hope,
Renewed.

Father, God.

May all who seek You
rejoice and be glad in You;

May those who love Your
-salvation-
always say,

"The Lord be exalted!"

Yet, I am poor and needy;

May the Lord think of me.

YOU are my
Help
and my
Deliverer,

Oh, Father God,

do not delay.

Psalm 40:16-17
Amen.

Reasons Why

1. I'm discombobulated
2. I'm disorganized
3. I'm the biggest procrastinator I've ever met
4. I'm not dependable
5. I forget things easily
6. I'm proud
7. I'm selfish
8. I have addictive tendencies
9. I'm Liberal
10. I'm easily offended
11. I'm inconsistent
12. I'm loud
13. I'm self-righteous
14. I unnaturally enjoy being alone
15. I'm moody
16. I'm not a good listener
17. I'm not a good learner
18. I like being right more than I like being humbled
19. I'm annoyed by well-balanced, functioning adults

I didn't know there were going to be 19 when I started, but here they are.

⁴ Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. ⁵ It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. ⁶ Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. ⁷ It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

⁸ Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they WILL CEASE; where there are tongues, they will BE STILLED; where there is knowledge, it WILL PASS AWAY.

I'm not ready to cease these 19. I'm not ready to still my tongue. I have too much knowledge and not enough grace to settle down right now. But I am ready for God to eclipse my afflictions:

every. single. day.

There are days that leave me weary for Heaven.

Christmas Eve is usually one of them.

Recently, Christmas has just been me and my immediate family.

My dad wasn't raised celebrating Christmas, so it's not his holiday by any means.

My mom's childhood Christmases were more focused on the magic that is Santa and his red velvet bag of toys.

I'm not saying I don't love getting and giving gifts.

And, my dad always tries his utmost best to join in during the holiday festivities.

But, my heart yearns to visit Jesus in the manger.

All these years when I begged Santa for a puppy, what I really wanted was to be a wise man or a shepherd boy.

I understand that now.

I understand that when I sing "joy to the world" at Coral Ridge Presbyterian's emphatic candle-lit Christmas Eve service, it is with a yearning for the true joy that will

Only be found when I'm in my Savior's arms.

I understand that no matter how much shiny paper of red, green, gold I shred with my fingertips, the gift inside, no matter how expensive, is not the

Gift of Gifts that God gave the world when He sent His son for us.

These earthly Christmastimes aren't for all of eternity, and

That's a good thing.

I can't wait to sing these carols with the angels someday.

Merry Christmas, everyone.