I’m pretty comfortable with the idea of grace enough. Like daily bread and strength to match my days, grace sufficient for my various circumstances is sort of soothing. I named a whole blog for it, actually.
You know what I’m not as comfortable with?
It feels… too much, sometimes. It feels awkward or something, receiving a huge gift that you can’t reciprocate in any way.
This happened last weekend. It was my favorite weekend of the whole year to start with… Every April for the last several years, my husband and I go down to Family Life’s Weekend To Remember. We get there a day early, set up all the sound and stage stuff, then stay late to tear down on Sunday. It’s a chance to get away, listen to great teaching on marriage, and to serve together (which we don’t do nearly as often now that we have kids.) But this year, somehow it exceeded even my (rather high) expectations… In a million ways, big and small, God showed up and showed off and I spent a bizarre percentage of the weekend on the edge of laughter, dancing, and tears because we were having SO. MUCH. FUN.
|Just one example: this was our view.
I loved it. And I was (am) thankful for it. But also, there was an uneasy feeling. Unworthiness? Maybe. Probably. “Wow, thanks! …But I don’t deserve it.” or maybe, “This kind of awesome should be reserved for someone who DOES deserve it.”
And at this point in my ponderings, I’m totally pierced.
OF COURSE I don’t deserve it. Nobody does. That’s why it’s called grace. (And did I really use the word “reciprocate” earlier?!?)
But what of “grace enough”?
I think I’ve gotten too comfortable with it. Too entitled to it. I seem to have forgotten that it’s still grace, so I can’t possibly deserve it. A fresh experience with over-the-top grace reminds me of this:
It’s all over-the-top.
Common grace is extravagant. Sun and rain and baby giggles? He doesn’t have to give any of that, but does. Because He loves us.
Saving grace is REALLY extravagant.
(I keep looking at a blinking cursor at the end of that sentence, waiting for something else to say, but there aren’t words.)
Anything this side of Hell is grace.
… And now I’m back in my real life. Where it’s ordinary. Where there’s relentless noise and discipline issues and bodily fluids and a medical thing that has most of my right foot temporarily useless and do you KNOW how many things you need a right foot for? So I’m back in the place where I’m just asking for grace enough to handle this day, this situation. But I’m aware, in a fresh way, that sufficient grace isn’t small grace, and now grace enough is overwhelming me the same way grace extravagant did.
Did you enjoy reading this? Feel free to share!
Published by robininalaska
Robin Chapman is a part-time writer, editor, and birth photographer and a full-time imperfect mama, wife, Jesus follower, and normalizer of failure. She’s trying hard to learn how to do this motherhood thing in a way that doesn’t land the whole family in intensive therapy. She has a heart for helping other mamas buried in the little years with hope, humor, and solidarity. You can find her hiding out in the bathroom with an iced dirty chai, writing and editing and making spreadsheets for KindredMom.com where she is a cheerleader for mamas, or online looking for grace in her mundane and weird life. She lives in Fairbanks, Alaska with her four delightful (crazy) kids—some homeschooled, some public schooled, some too young for school at all—and her ridiculously good looking husband, Andrew.
View more posts
Yes! and I love how you paint pictures with your words. Please keep writing!
Great insight. I pray you NEVER get comfortable with God's grace. . . 🙂
Leave a comment