Suspicious of Grace

“It may be that we have lost our ability to hold a blazing coal, to move unfettered through time, to walk on water, because we have been taught that such things have to be earned; we should deserve them; we must be qualified. We are suspicious of grace. We are afraid of the very lavishness of the gift.

” . . . So we are diminished, and we forget that we are more than we know. The child is aware of unlimited potential, and this munificence is one of the joys of creativity.” Madeleine L’Engle  Walking on Water

Suspicious of grace? Who me? Not at all. Why, I know I’ve paid my dues, done my homework, honed my skills, and slapped on the right Christian tag-lines like, “Using the gifts God has given me,” and, “If it’s God’s will . . .”

Uh, wait. That’s not grace? Oh, you mean the unearned kind of grace. True, true. That’s the only kind of real grace that exists, isn’t it?

How easily I can slip out of being connected to my Creator King, enjoying His fellowship and sharing in the delight of His gifts, to feeling like I must perform a duty, and maybe a little song and dance, to garner His attention and favor while I slog through the daily grind. Sure seems like those two things should stand in stark contrast doesn’t it?

Yet, somehow, at least for myself, I can lose sight of Who’s gifts I’ve been entrusted with. I try to make His gifts work for me, in my way, and then wonder why they are so bland and boring. It’s as if my brain is the size of a hamster and I eagerly hop on my squeaky, revolving wheel to take off on an adventure . . . only to find I haven’t even left the confines of my cage.

Why can’t I grasp that I’m being deceived and trapped when I try to earn the things God freely gives? Performing for the approval of man replaces the freedom of loving God and expressing that love with all of my heart—a place that also encompasses the gifts and talents He has placed within me. The times I throw myself into the act of loving Him and serving Him are the times that the gifts of grace and faith are given what they need to flourish. The times I slip into pride and performance result in sucking the life out of those gifts, leaving me weary of trying.

Why do I want to exchange valuable, precious pearls for the cheap, plastic kind? Maybe because I “forget that [I am] more than [I] know.” Maybe I really am suspicious of grace. Maybe I need to truly embrace and accept the “lavishness of the gift.”

Do you struggle with these paradigms?  Are there warning signs that you’ve learned to notice that keep you (mostly) where you should be, and would you please share your experiences with me?

The last 6 weeks have been busting at the seams with demands on my time and expectations of my talents. I am weary. Between rehearsals, performances (literal ones, on stage), being a part of planning committees for events at work and among friends, writing deadlines, self-imposed demands (like blogging once a week), and attempting normal life with family, I feel pretty frazzled.

This week’s quote is a good reminder of walking in the Spirit, accepting God’s grace, and resting in His strength . . . versus how I feel trudging along in my flesh. Honestly, when things are this busy, this demanding, I don’t know how to keep that spiritual connection fresh and fortified. Even having a quiet time feels like another expectation that I need to meet, sad to say. I’m open to learning from others and would love to hear from those of you that have “been there, done that” with a measure of success surviving spiritually—rather than feeling like a disillusioned hamster.