**note: these pictures are all completely unrelated, just for fun**
Last week was a little rough: I had a pretty serious ear infection that knocked me out and confined me to my room where I mostly sat propped up on my bed in a drug induced state of lethargy.
This week, though, I'm bouncing back- going to ministry, cutting back on the pain killers, even- gulp!- getting up at the crack of dawn to join my running buddies.
I'm not going to lie, it's been tough. They've been running consistently this month, and I was down for the count all last week, so I'm getting back into shape with a group of girls who have already re- acclimated their bodies to rapid movement.
The competitive side of me says, "bring it on."
But my body doesn't feel quite like cooperating yet.
Yesterday I fell behind and finished last and when I finally came out of the woods to where the other girls were waiting, I said, "tomorrow, I'll keep up," to which Charlotte replied, "hey, there's grace here."
There's grace here.
What a loaded statement.
And here's my confession: I don't have much grace. All those years of dance may have made me more fluid in movement but did nothing for my heart. I have extremely high standards and when anyone- I or other people- fall short of those often impossible goals, they fall in my eyes, too.
I think I judge myself the worst.
So when I can pinch the fat on my stomach, I see it as a failure to correctly watch what I eat. When I get tired in or of ministry, I see it as a failure to fully rely on the Lord. When I can't keep up with the girls running ahead of me, I see it as a failure in discipline and performance and ability.
This goes way beyond body image issues and points me back to the lack of grace that I've allowed to define my life.
Thank goodness God doesn't see me this way: a failure who seems unable to do anything perfectly. Or even well.
He sees me made in the image of His Son.
He sees me as worthy of His sacrifice.
He sees me as dead to sin.
He sees me as His child.
He sees an overcomer.
You, dear children, are from God and have overcome them, because the One who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world. 1 John 4:4
I don’t have to be the skinniest one here, the one most excited to go to the bars every night, the most modestly dressed or the one with all the right answers.
I do have to show grace, and that grace has to be real and it has to be for everyone. Even me.
This is something I struggle with, something I have to be reminded of on the daily.
Girls with grace can love their neighbor without comparing themselves to her.
Girls with grace can hold sick HIV babies without fear.
Girls with grace can walk into bars and bring life to the women (and men) in the vicious cycle of prostitution with no condemnation in their eyes.
Girls with grace have bodies that act as the temple of the Living God, and they accept those bodies as gifts- no hatred, abuse, or manipulation required.
Father, please help me grow into a woman whose grace flows freely from her, who extends it to everyone she meets, who loves unconditionally and gives because she can- never with an ulterior motive. Help conform me into the image of Your Son, the perfect picture of grace and sacrifice, love and strength.
