October 22nd
Bar, Montenegro
I have been thinking a lot about grace. What it means. How we operate in it. The depths and magnitude of it. And the only conclusion that I have come to is … there is no conclusion. Only different chapters and lessons in the ocean of grace we live and breathe in. So, here is part one:
Bar is a coastal town with breathtaking views, almost intimidating at times. The panoramic scenery is sometimes too much to handle. I often find myself looking at the mountains that dwarf the Appalachian Mountains I am used to and then to the beautiful Adriatic Sea that is both calming and large. And as I swirl around taking in each inch of glory, I become dizzy. Not because of the spins I am taking that rival the rotation of the planet I am on, but because I can’t seem to wrap my brain around the absurdity of His creation. It is something to behold.
It has been raining in Bar a good portion of our time here. And
there are puddles everywhere. Even now, the rain pours down on the
saturated soil of this place, leaving the water no place to go except
form puddles on paths. The path to the beach where the above view is at is best, is littered with these puddles. It is a very intentional journey to see the waves crash on the rocks, so as to not land yourself mid-calf in a puddle. But sometimes, despite your best efforts, you find yourself there – mid-calf in the puddle you were trying to avoid. And other times it is fun to just play in them. I mean, you are already soaked, so why not.
there are puddles everywhere. Even now, the rain pours down on the
saturated soil of this place, leaving the water no place to go except
form puddles on paths. The path to the beach where the above view is at is best, is littered with these puddles. It is a very intentional journey to see the waves crash on the rocks, so as to not land yourself mid-calf in a puddle. But sometimes, despite your best efforts, you find yourself there – mid-calf in the puddle you were trying to avoid. And other times it is fun to just play in them. I mean, you are already soaked, so why not.
It is easy to stay there, I believe. In the why not. Why not hang out in the puddle that is before us. The puddle that has formed in front of us, actually in our path.
But if we don’t lift our eyes long enough to see what is ahead, we miss the sea. Miss the massive body of water that is a beautiful metaphor to grace. The magnitude of it. The lifegiving properties of it. The healing entities of it. We miss it. All because we can’t look up long enough to see that there is more.
But when we do, we realize the absolute beauty of it. The beauty of how we have nothing to do with this grace, only that it is a gift. And that it is the pivotal point of everything else in life. How we love. How we treat others. How we treat ourselves. What we do. What we want.
In Transforming Grace, Jerry Bridges says this about grace:
“We are brought into God’s Kingdom by grace; we are sanctified by grace; we receive both temporal and spiritual blessings by grace; we are motivated to obedience by grace; we are called to serve and enabled to serve by grace; we receive strength to endure trials by grace; and finally, we are glorified by grace. The entire Christian life is lived under the reign of God’s grace.” He goes so far as to say that “Jesus Christ has already paid for every blessing you and I will ever receive from God the Father.” That is amazing to think about because Ephesians 1:3 says that we “are blessed with EVERY spiritual blessing in the heavenly places in Christ” and that He “freely bestowed His grace on us.”
I can understand, as much as my mortal mind can, that He died for ALL my sins – past and future. To me, that is easier to understand than Him going to the cross to bless me. It is one thing to know that Jesus went to the cross for the ultimate blessing, salvation. It is quite another, to know that He went to the cross for the little blessings that He romances me with. Like sunsets. And people that give life to you. And rain. And a child’s laugh. And a ride when it is raining. And an affirmation of your purpose. And mountains. And oceans. There are too many to count. But perhaps, so are my sins.
So, maybe I take back what I said earlier about not having a conclusion. Maybe the conclusion is, the more you step into His grace and abundance, the more you realize how dependent you are on it. Jerry Bridges points out a beautiful picture of this in scripture, found in II Samuel 9. The story is about Mephibosheth, Jonathan’s son, who is crippled in both feet. King David invites Mephibosheth to His table to eat. Actually, II Samuel mentions 4 times that he ate at the King’s table, 3 of them stating that he always ate at this place of distinction. The same fact is stated at the beginning and the end of the chapter – that he was crippled in both feet. Maybe he always ate at the King’s table because he didn’t have the ability to go very far from it. He didn’t have the ability to push away from the abunance, the feast and eat elsewhere. He got his nurishment, his life, his communion at the King’s table. I think this is something I need to realize. Both my feet are crippled. I need to stay at the King’s table, perfectly poised to receive the abundance He serves daily. New each day. Mephibosheth realized he couldn’t do it on his own. I don’t think he ever wanted to. Why did I ever think I could make it away from the King’s table? Thoughts like these, leave you playing in puddles. I choose the ocean of grace. Crippled feet and all.
