John 1:11-13; 16-17
“But to all who did receive Him, who believed in His name, He gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood more of the will of man, but of God…For from his fulness we have all received grace upon grace. For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.”
So you chose me, Abba. You actually want me. Me! All you want, is all of me—a sinner, a rebel, a slave to my flesh—but never has that ever changed the way you look upon me. My brain will never be able to understand that. Why do you want me? Don’t you see my flaws? Don’t you see my weaknesses? Don’t you see all of the times I have turned my back against you? Don’t you remember being beaten, mocked, spat on, and then murdered, by people who have the exact same heart as me? Certainly I was not in the crowd, but I might as well have been. Yet, none of this matters to you. You have chosen to forget, chosen to cleanse and erase all of my shortcomings, and all of my many mistakes. It’s not that I am perfect now. It’s not anything I have done, really. It’s you. It’s love. It’s the power of forgiveness that looks upon a wretched creature like me, and sees all that I could be. You know my fears, insecurities, doubts, and all of my brokenness, but you choose to look deeper. The deeper you go, the more darkness you will find. Yet, it seems that the more you invade my heart, the more grace is given, the more joy is released, and the more hope I can see. Am I broken? Yes. Beyond repair? No. No, I am not too damaged, or too far gone, never for you. Now I am being broken and undone in a way that I have not felt in such a long time. Freedom. The brokenness your light is creating as it pierces the darkness, is setting me free. The chains are falling off. I am still a slave, but a slave unto a new master. My flesh is still my default. It wants to curse, instead of bless you. It wants to rebuke you and run away, but my spirit cannot seem to get over the fact that you chose me, and for that I will crucify my nature, daily. If anyone would want me, if anyone would want to dine with me forever, if anyone would want to walk hand in hand with me, if anyone would want me to be their beloved child, their precious daughter, than they deserve all of my devotion and love. You don’t deserve someone like me, and I don’t deserve a Father like you, but I guess that is why this relationship works. You don’t see the dirt in me. You know that I am but dust, a jar of imperfect, incapable clay, but you call me your own. You take these ashes and transform them into something beautiful. No matter how many times I run, and no matter how many times I fall, your love never ceases to chasten me; you never stop saving me. My soul will sing of who you are, Jesus. You are my Abba, my Father, my Beloved. I don’t deserve such a Savior. I cannot promise not to fail, slip up, and fall. All I can promise you is that there will forever be more brokenness to fix, but that is okay. That is perfect, actually, because it just proves how I need you. Oh, how desperately I need you inside of my heart, doing what only you can do.
So grace upon grace? Yes, truly all is grace. All is light. All I see is you.
“I would rather be what God chose to make me than the most glorious creature that I could think of, for to have been thought about, born in God’s thoughts, and then made by God, is the dearest, most precious, and grandest thing in all thinking.” -George MacDonald
Application: My application is to post this IBS. Not just on my blog, but on my Facebook too. I was encouraged recently to be bold with the ministry God has entrusted me with, and I know that this is what God is asking me to do right now. So I will embrace vulnerability, and be brave, even in the simplest of ways.