A song
that’s been on repeat in my house recently is the song “Wonder” by Bethel
music. My favorite line comes toward the middle. “You fascinate me, you
fascinate me, you fascinate me with Your love.”
I looked up the definition of fascinate this morning. It means to draw irresistibly the attention and interest
of someone. I think that’s a perfect word to describe my heart right now. I’m
fascinated by the unending love of a God who can look at me in the middle of my
mess that I willingly dove into and call me out. I’m fascinated by the love of
a God who can look past my mess. I’m
fascinated by the never ending grace He extends to the ugliest parts of me.
I’m going
to be vulnerable here for minute. This is not easy for me. I’ve lived my life
among circles of people who, at the first slip of your feet, will rush to pick
up stones to throw. I’ve lived my life closed off, in fear of anyone seeing a
less than perfect version of myself. But Jesus is calling me to admit and
acknowledge my mess, and to let His grace cover it.
I’m currently reading a book by
Beth Moore called Get Out of That Pit. In it, she talks about us pit-jumpers.
The ones who see a pit, know it’s deep, know it’s wrong, and knows the
consequences will be great, and yet we still taking a running leap into it. Well
that’s what I did these last few months. The momentary thrill of the jump
outweighed my concern for the consequences, and I fell hard. I hurt other
people in the process. I wrecked my whole life in a very short period of time.
I was wrong. I rationalized what I did, I made excuses in my head, I managed to
keep my conscience quiet for a short time. And then (as they always do) the
secrets came out and I was left with the
consequences.
So here I sit, watching the snowfall, trying to figure out how to piece back together a heart that’s been broken into a million pieces. Yes, it was broken by my own choices, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. I’m at peace though. Jesus picked me up, looked at me, and said neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more. Grace is a beautiful thing. I’m thankful His mercies are new every morning. It still hurts. The consequences are still here. Unfortunately, most people are not as liberal with grace as Jesus is. And that’s ok. I’m learning to accept the fact that we humans are pretty messed up, and there are some people that will never look at me the same, or want to be my friend anymore. It hurts, but I’ve realized over the past 28 years that as Christians, a lot of times we readily accept grace but struggle to extend it to others. It’s a sad fact, but the friends that have stuck with me the past month have been primarily my “non-christian” friends. They have sat with me, cried with me, looked me in the eye and said yes Jamie you screwed up. Big time. Pick yourself up, move on, and don’t do it again. I’ve learned that for most Christians, we are so quick to hand out grace to those outside our circle. We invite them in, love them, and offer grace and forgiveness readily. But when it’s inside our circle, we feel they should have known better. And I did know better. But does that make me any less deserving of grace?
If I walk away with nothing else, I pray I walk away never forgetting the ridiculous amount of grace Jesus has extended me, and always be willing to extend that same amount of grace to anyone, regardless of what they have done. I’m asking for the same from my friends, knowing I won’t receive it from some, and knowing that it will be ok regardless.
So this is me, laying it all out
there, and asking for grace. I need it. I’m as messed up as they come. But
Jesus is working, peeling back the layers, showing me the ugliest parts of me
that need healing. Beth Moore said in the book I am reading “No one needs the Physician
more than the person who likes the taste of the toxin that keeps poisoning
her.” I’m asking Jesus to heal the parts
of me that draw me away, the parts of me that crave the thrill of jumping into
a pit. I’m thankful He hasn’t given up on me. He fascinates me with His love
for ME.
