It is stereotypical of Racers to get tattoos at one or multiple points on their Race. Mine came during month 3 in Northern Ireland. (Check out Facebook for pictures and proof of my embarrassingly low pain tolerance.) I got a small cross on the inside of my right ring finger. I had been considering the tattoo for a whopping 30-ish hours before I got it done, but something happened during that time that really confirmed my decision.
You see, I messed up big time, or at least that’s how I felt. I’m not going to get into great detail about it, but I will tell you that it took less than 10 hours from the time I “messed up” before the guilt almost suffocated me and I ran to my team leader. I found Ben talking with Libby, his wife, and I very unceremoniously interrupted their conversation. Libby took one look at my face, forgave my interruption, and left Ben and I to talk.
I think the first words I blurted out were a simple. “I have to tell you something!” He just looked at me and waited. Ben has this irritating habit of being unbelievably patient, so as he waited for more eloquent words to come forth, I sat there in misery. My face was pale, my palms were sweating, and my stomach felt like there would be an upward revolt at any second. With a deep breath I finally plucked up the courage for my confession. As I finished, I chanced a glance at Ben to see what I was sure would be a reaction of disappointment and frustration.
And then….he laughed. A big, deep belly laugh. And then he laughed some more. I think I let out one of those little nervous laughs like, “I’m going to laugh because you’re laughing, but I’m actually still really scared.” Ends up Ben wasn’t upset with me at all. Yeah, he was a little disappointed, but he didn’t see the “giant mistake” I thought I had made. He saw me racked with guilt and willing to confess. He saw me and had compassion on me. After he finished laughing we talked through the problem. He helped me to see it from God’s perspective, and then he encouraged me to set it right.
During my mental prep for this conversation I had envisioned it going completely differently. I had seen anger, trouble, consequences, further talks with squad leaders, etc. So when Ben’s laughter soaked into me like cool rain, I didn’t know how to react. It took a lot of him talking and reassuring for me to accept the grace he was offering. As much as I didn’t want to get in trouble, I kind of did. You know what I mean? You don’t want the consequences, but you feel like if you get them, if you suffer enough, it will somehow begin to make up for what you have done.
That, my friend, is not grace. That is us trying to work or pay for something we will never be able to achieve. The grace Ben showed me that day is the grace that Jesus died on the cross to give everyone. It was wonderful beyond description for me to see a glimpse of God’s grace through Ben that day in Ireland. And I’ve looked back on that moment many times throughout the Race and smiled in fond remembrance. But the sad thing is, I still haven’t been living by this grace.
God’s astounding grace isn’t just for the big moments or the small moments. It’s for every single moment of our entire lives. He so longs for us to live in a place where we always know we are covered by His grace. I’m still learning this. I’m still trying to fully let go of my attitude of earning and working and striving, and to finally just accept God’s love and grace for what it is: perfect, incomprehensible, free, and permanent.
I’m currently reading a book that, to use a cliche Christian saying, is wrecking my life- in the best way possible. Let me highly recommend Jesus Is _____. by Judah Smith. I’m going to be optimistic here and say that when (not if) you read it, you will begin to understand a little more of God’s grace for you and hopefully begin to live out of that place. The place where your focus is on His grace and not your sin.
So, back to Northern Ireland. Later that same day after I confessed to Ben, I went to get my cross tattoo. What had started out as a fun idea for a tattoo turned into my desire for a visual reminder of God’s grace in my life. As I look at it right now, six months later, I realize that I stil have so much to learn, but that’s ok. His grace will always be there, and, praise Him, it doesn’t depend on me at all.
