Wednesday, November 9, 2016


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.

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