Scraps of Grace

The sky was pink and gold the night I took this photo. I love a sunset. Especially the kind that makes you pause to look up at the sky without even trying. The kind that doesn’t ask anything of you, except to be still, and for a moment, it feels like Heaven on Earth.

And then the sun fades below the tree lines, and it’s dark again, and you hear the voices in your head as the rush of life picks right back up where it left off. “You didn’t finish what you said you would today.” “You should have known better.” “Who are you to call yourself a Christian? You have failed so many times.” This aching voice that calls me unworthy, and tells me I need to clean myself up before I come near the Lord and experience anything good or beautiful. The voice that interrupts the most precious moments.

That voice is shame.

Shame isn’t always subtle, it doesn’t always shout. (Although it definitely does sometimes.) Sometimes it sounds reasonable. Sometimes it sounds holy. It tells me I’ve crossed some invisible lines and that if I stay quiet, small, and hidden, I can prevent myself from ever crossing those lines again. It convinces me that seeking all things good and being human at the same time can be a contradiction. That raw emotion needs to be filtered before it is allowed in God’s presence.

Part of me writes and thinks- “Who are you to talk about Grace when you are still learning how to receive it?” “Who are you to write about Jesus when your life isn’t perfectly aligned, your heart is messy, and you’re still figuring out what obedience even looks like?”

But here’s the bottom line. Shame always tells you to hide. Grace never does. Grace doesn’t rush you. It doesn’t demand a performance before it stays. It meets me right where I am, even when I’m conflicted, even when my desires or activities don’t feel neatly ordered.

Not only does it meet me then, but especially then. I think for a long time, I thought God was waiting on the other side of my growth. Like once I figured it all out, I’d be welcome to speak his name out loud again. But that’s not the God I’m slowly coming to know,

The God I’m getting to know is not at all surprised by my humanity. He doesn’t flinch at my tension or anxiety. He doesn’t step back when I am embarrassed. He steps closer.

Shame draws a line and says, “You’re on the wrong side of this.” Grace opens its arms and says “Come here.”

That sunset didn’t ask me to be worthy of it. It didn’t care what I thought or said or didn’t do that day. It just showed up in all it’s fullness and beauty and let itself be seen. And maybe that’s the lesson I needed the most.

That is what God wants from us. He wants us to silence the doubts and fears in our minds and let ourselves be seen. We don’t have to silence ourselves until we’re better.

Friend, I encourage you to reject the lies of the devil that come through shame. Do it anyway. Love anyway. Share anyway. Forgive anyway. Let yourself be seen by God today.

Scripture: “Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the Heavens, you are there; If I make my bed in the depths, you are there.” -Psalm 139:7-8

Song: “Scandal of Grace” Hillsong United, Matt Crocker