Amazing grace.
I drove to church by myself last Sunday. God arranged it
that way because He needed this time alone with me. No interruptions. No
distractions. He had me stay after church for a meeting, so my husband and I
went in separate cars. I’m glad.
It happens that on my way there, for some random reason
(really?), the word “grace” popped into my mind. Also, for some “random”
reason, three situations also came to mind, one after another, just like that.
One, two old friends of mine, both pastors' wives, from two very opposite
denominational doctrines and theologies, yet best friends and colleagues. I
always found it refreshing to see their love for each other and for their
congregations and ministry to the people around them. Another one, my
relationship with my prodigal, his journey, and his eventual rejection of our
family values and convictions. Third, someone close to our family, who had made
certain mistakes that caused serious difficulties in her life, and my judgment
of her.
That was when the word grace came to mind, just like that,
it just popped. I always say I don’t cry, and it’s true. I really don’t. I wish
I did. But this time I confess that I got a little emotional, and I felt a bit
of a knot in my throat, though I was not sure why, so I kept driving along.
Fast forward to service, and what song is on the worship
package? Amazing Grace. Of all the songs they could have chosen. “Twas grace
that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved; how precious did
that grace appear the hour I first believed! Through many dangers, toils and
snares I have already come: 'tis grace has brought me safe thus far, and grace
will lead me home.”
Then came the clincher. The last song of the package. “I’m no longer a slave to fear. I am a child
of God…You split the sea so I could walk right through it. My fears are drowned in perfect love.”
No, it was not a random thought. It was a conviction. God
does that sometimes. And this past Sunday, his lesson for me was that He wants
me to be a little better at showing grace. The same grace that He showed me.
That same grace that “saved a wretch like me”. Sometimes, life’s
pressures and circumstances deplete our supply of grace. It’s natural, one of
the results of living in this fallen world. Yet, He wants me to show grace to
those who do not believe as I do, whose ethos may be perpendicularly
opposed to mine, just like Jesus showed grace to the woman at the well and the
woman accused of adultery and to Judas and to Nicodemus and to Pilate. And yes,
to the thieves hanging next to him. He wants me to show grace to my prodigal,
and other prodigals, and even those who curse His name. He wants me to show
grace to that person to whom I pointed my dirty finger, dressed in righteousness,
but dirty nevertheless, because it was “your decision that brought you here”
after all.
But, Lord, how do I do it? How do I show grace? That is the
tricky part. I have no idea, really. Should I go to them and make this speech
about how the Lord led me to reach out and seek them? Ask for forgiveness? I
think not. Although at times such a step might be necessary, in general, it
could also be nothing but a show of arrogance and self-assurance. “Look, I
am so much better than you. I am so humble!” Let’s face it, most of the
time, they have no idea, and they’ll look at us like, “Huh?” But I do
know one thing, it has to start in my heart. I have to begin by listening, and if
and when the moment arises, learning about their feelings and their reasons for
doing or believing or thinking like they do. It doesn’t mean they are right, or
that I have to agree with them or condone their thinking and behavior. But that
is when I move to loving them, because love covers a multitude of sins. Finally,
if nothing else works, then leave. Shake the dust off my feet. I have done my
work; the rest is up to God. The four Ls of grace: Listen, Learn, Love, Leave.
I not only got emotional last Sunday. I was convicted. God
convicted me. He brought me to tears. Yes, I cried. Who knew?
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