I have been a Christian for most of my life, yet some days it feels like I have just begun. There are days where I feel as if I’ve hardly moved forward, and days where I feel like I’m doing okay.
Then there are days where I mourn the fact that we are
humans attempting to depict who Jesus is, and that none of us will ever get
that right.
In no way, shape or form am I in a position to preach to
anyone or judge anyone. And maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about. Ever.
Maybe I’m too emotional or feel things too deeply. It’s true that I'm not a
Biblical scholar or theologian, but I am a woman who loves Jesus deeply.
I believe that there is nothing we could say or do that
could ruin us in the eyes of God. I believe that w are loved truly.
Unconditionally. I believe there exists an overflow of grace, that
is quite literally never ending. Humanity has a hard time with grace, but Jesus
doesn’t.
A friend recently told me, “when you have been set free, you
are free indeed. Your fear, your shame, your disappointment may return over
time for a moment or two, but you don’t stay there and you don’t own that
anymore.” I just kept nodding my head while tears welled up in my eyes.
This kind of love terrifies me, and not in a way where I
feel threatened, but in the afresh recognition of both my finite smallness and
His infinite grandeur. Of His strength, and His might, and His woo’ing, unrelenting love.
