Everyone knows, or should know, you cannot give someone a gift unless you have it yourself. For example, on Valentine’s day my sweet friend Kristen wanted to give our squad brownies to show her love for us. To give us brownies, she had to first buy them, to be able to make them, to be able to give them. How thankful I was to have a warm fudge brownie on la día de Valentín.
Much like Kristen and her brownies, I had been wanting to give my team grace… however unlike Kristen, I did not look for grace, I did not have it either, so as you can imagine it was hard to try to constantly give of something I did not have.
All during our first month in Colombia, I waited for our meals to roll out each day and depending on what that meal was, I watched as the faces of my teammates turned into a mix of confusion and distaste. Sometimes it was quite funny, especially considering how unaware they were of the sudden face changes.
After having a few cultural-sensitivity talks I expected to see immediate results and happy hearts when we received our meals each day. Bless their hearts they tried, and sometimes succeeded but the amount left over told no lies, the girls did not like the food.
When a day or two passed of eating meals like this, my “grace” for my teammates had run out and judgement began to take over my mind and heart. The thoughts raced through my mind and polluted my view of my teammates.
How inconsiderate could someone be? It really isn’t that hard… just smile and eat the food! Stop asking questions because I don’t know what it is either but look! I’m eating it anyways! How hard could it be… JUST EAT IT!
I didn’t understand why this lesson was so hard to learn. As Christians, we are called to love one another so why couldn’t my teammates show the kind of love I did? I was loving these people so well, why couldn’t my team just learn from my example?
I started functioning through this attitude and quickly it became hard to not see myself as greater than. I thought of myself so highly and cultured, yet every time I saw myself this way, I began to resent my teammates and their unwillingness to change to be just like me. Behaving this way and thinking this way made me feel so ugly. I continually justified my thinking because if those girls didn’t change we would be offending the culture and it’s people. So, they had to change and I was going to make them see. I would show them.
To anyone reading this I just want to clarify that I was the one needing an attitude adjustment… that is if you couldn’t already tell.
I am their leader, I am the one who should teach them about this cultural knowledge I have.
But these girls needed someone gentle, patient and full of grace.
So how could I teach them out of grace and love? Or better yet, what was wrong with me that I couldn’t meet them where they were at? What was wrong with me, calling myself a disciple of Jesus, yet thinking so poorly of my fellow disciples?
Well… Let’s go back to the brownies Kristen gave. She couldn’t give them if she didn’t have them, much like I could not give grace to my teammates if I had not yet received it myself.
I sat in judgement watching my teammates eat in the same way I perceived my heavenly father to be watching me live my life.
My heavenly father offers me the bread of life daily and I usually eat a little just to be polite but sometimes I believe the lie that I do not deserve the bread.
Hang with me here… this is about to get good.
So while God sets the table, I try to prove that I am worth the bread he is baking. I wipe the table, I sweep the floors, hoping he will be proud enough or satisfied enough to let me eat with him. I scrub the floors so hard my knuckles begin to turn white. I get so worked up in everything I should do that I miss the fact that my father is waiting patiently at the table to serve me.
But I want to do everything perfectly. I want to prove to him that I deserve a seat at the table, even though my place has already been set.
My father is still waiting patiently but there is so much to do. I’m not even close to getting the floors all scrubbed and after that I will need to get ready, I mean I look awful.
My chair sits, empty.
As I scrub I wonder if I will ever be good enough, if I will ever be able to do enough to sit at his table.
I was living in a world without accepting my father’s grace.
He didn’t need me to look perfect and he could care less about what the floors looked like, I didn’t have to make up for anything. He was just there to be with me. To sit with me, to talk with me. He knew I wouldn’t be perfect but unlike me, my father operates out of grace.
February 14, 2017 I woke up and received one of the greatest valentines I have ever gotten. I woke up early and didn’t feel the burden of needing to read my bible, or pray or do some checklist item. I woke up and felt that with the true love of my father, I didn’t need to perform, I didn’t need to prove and so… I didn’t. I laid in my bed and just thought of what he might say to me.
The words that came to me were God-breathed and in the form of a poem. They said:
My child,
Why try to make up for lost time?
You are already the apple of my eye.
There is no sin that can condemn,
For I already gave my son for them.
I sent him down, a precious babe,
Daughter, because of him you are safe.
Safe to be here talking with me,
Safe to be yourself, safe to be free.
What you have done is gone, you are clean.
So don’t redeem the past but daughter, dream!
For I am your redeemer, I lived and died,
I brought love to the law to give you life.
My daughter don’t just live a little,
Live to the full!
Let me fill you up, come dance on my streets of gold.
This is more than a fairytale, more than a poem,
This is about a love that is for you alone.
My daughter don’t weep, life up your face,
I am your Abba, your father, the giver of grace.
That day I tip-toed into the kitchen like a little girl and curled up in my seat, taking in the smell of the fresh bread and looking into the eyes of my father, seeing nothing but love and grace. I was his valentine, he had waited just for me. I was giddy to be able to sit at the table with my Papa, like his little princess, doing nothing but just being, just sitting with him.
I came to realize that God is not a god of judgement but a father of grace. A grace that breaks my chains, a grace that forgives, and a grace that freely gives. His grace accepts me without performance because to him I am a little princess. I am his valentine and he will always be mine.
I started February 14 receiving God’s grace and because of his goodness I could end February 14 by giving his grace to a teammate that I had judged far too harshly the previous month.
My father loves all his children, not just me, therefore grace is a gift I will now give freely.
Thank you, Papa.
