Grace.

I just love reading books written by authors who have struggled with legalism and yet are now living in the beauty of grace. Or the letters written by our beloved brother Paul. They give me hope. I, too, will get it someday. The light will come on, bells will start to ring, and I will allow God’s grace to wash over me, filling my cup to overflowing that I might then be an agent of grace to those around me.

With that in mind, I was reading the highlights I made in the books of one of my favorite authors of late and would like to share of few thoughts that struck home with me. Sometimes a little too close to home, if you know what I mean.

From Grace Based Parenting by Dr. Tim Kimmel:

“Home grown grace. I personally have no idea what this kind of grace looks like.

There’s nothing about grace that comes naturally to me. My appreciation for this wonderful gift has grown from the myriad ways I’ve received it rather than the isolated cases where I’ve happened to exercise it (p 127).

In one sense, legalism is a lazy man’s religion. It’s an empty Sunday suit that doesn’t require much of a personal relationship with God. It doesn’t require much thinking either. You simply memorize the list of things that good Christians do, and then you try to check off as many as possible during the week. You also study a much longer list of things that Christians don’t do. You have to work overtime to avoid doing these things, while at the same time avoiding anyone who does them as well (p. 128). {Sound familiar to anyone else but me? Oh, the elaborate point system I have concocted in my mind.}

Lest you think that being raised in strident, legalistic churches is a prerequisite to an adult life of legalism, the fact is that legalism is the path of choice for many, if not most, people who come to know Christ personally. There’s something instinctive about turning a belief system into a checklist and faith into a formula. It’s also easy to distill beliefs into programs and rituals that substitute for true intimacy with God. When God gives you children, you head to church to see if someone has some answers in a pre-packaged and predictable plan for turning them into strong Christian kids (p. 130-131). {Good, I’m not alone in this craziness after all. Oh, I am deeply sorry if you are one of the poor saps in this mess with me.}

One of the great things about God’s grace is the safe haven it offers to a transparent heart. He doesn’t require masks in His throne room. I know. I’ve been there.

Jesus makes people feel comfortable even when He catches them without their make-up. When circumstances scrub off the layers of their self-confidence, and their shortcomings wash away the foundation of their self-righteousness, Jesus isn’t appalled by the blemishes He finds underneath. There’s no sin too bad, no doubt too big, no question too hard, and no heart too broken for His grace to deal with.

These are the very things that children need to learn early on in their lives, and God has given parents the responsibility to be the gatekeepers of His grace. It is your careful response to these fragile issues that plays the key role in whether your children will even be inclined to head down the path to God's grace. Further, seeing your regular trips down this path for your own personal vulnerabilities make is easier for your children to trust you when you try to take their hands and show them the way (p. 164).

You’ll probably never know the profound impact that the giving of grace will have on your children’s vulnerabilities, but it’s obvious how much devastation can be wrought if you don’t. If God had not visited Paul with grace during his times of vulnerability, his letters and his history probably would have turned out quite differently. It’s the same for your children. Those things within their lives that give them pause are the very things you are called to meet with grace (p. 177).

My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9).

Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong (2 Corinthians 12:9b-10).

It was in God’s grace that Paul figured out how to feel secure, significant, and strong. His personal weaknesses and points of vulnerability weren’t removed, but he had the necessary grace to face them and accept them (p. 176).

Could it be possible that after we have accepted this gift for ourselves, we might begin to extend it to our children, our loved ones, our hard-to-love ones, our they-hurt-me ones, our they-failed-me ones? Instead of focusing on shortcomings, failures, weaknesses, irritations, inconveniences, what if we celebrated the beauty in our people? What an amazing gift it could be. May it be so, Lord.

I have said it before, and I will say it again:

“I want to be safe – that place where people can fail and still be loved” (from Quaker Summer by Lisa Samson).