romans and grace.

In the New Year we felt ambitious.. like the world was at our fingertips for the first time, like anything was possible and we had all the time we'd like to get where we wanted to go. In the New Year we set goals.. physical, relational, spiritual. Weigh this much, spend more time with these people, read this book, study this scripture. We made lists in moleskins of what we wanted to do, things we vowed to change. We made promises to each other and to ourselves, and to our God. In the New Year, we felt ambitious.

Just over four months later, our moleskins are under magazines or under the front seat of our car, gathering dust somewhere with lists of New Years promises rotting away inside. Time goes so quickly, and life gets so busy, and we have lost our gumption, we say. Clothes pile up and groceries must be bought and rooms need painting and the pool needs cleaning and it turns out a kitchen cabinet makeover takes a lot more time and effort than we thought. We get up early and we go to bed late and still it seems there isn't time in a day to do all we need to do, all we have promised to do, all we want to do. So we settle into routines and day to day life and without our knowing it but with our complete permission promises like reading more and praying more and eating healthier and being more intentional with our thoughts and words are lost somewhere between sleeping and eating and homework and working and painting and life. Four months later, we have broken promises to each other, to ourselves, and to our God.

And then we are challenged, by students or friends or family or mentors, to go back to the basics. To turn off the TV and to put down the dish rags and paint brushes. To get in the Word with hearts that are searching for Him, to know Him better, to desire Him more. And so I dig up the moleskin with the list and I go back. And so what? some say... New Years resolutions are made to be broken. And if they were only resolutions then that may be so, but these were promises, and they were made to be kept. I flip through the notebook, find my list. "Memorize scripture" I read. I have memorized one verse in four months. A promise I made and did not keep.

I go into the office and open a Bible study workbook I started two years ago. It was supposed to last five weeks. And isn't that how the story goes.. starting things with vigor and slowly they slip through our fingers and get pushed aside. Today's lesson, which was actually yesterdays lesson two years ago, landed on Ecclesiastes 5:4-6:

"When you make a vow to God, don't delay fulfilling it, because He does not delight in fools. Fulfill what you vow. Better that you do not vow than that you vow and not fulfill it. Do not let your mouth bring guilt on you, and do not say in the presence of a messenger that it was a mistake."

I snap the book closed abruptly, I can feel Him. He knows me. My heart is overwhelmed with conviction.

It has been just over a year since this started... this crazy thing with this amazing guy who is my soon-to-be husband. And if we could see it all, we would know it has actually been far longer than a year. When my hands are busy in dirty dish water or broom and dust pan, my mind wanders and always lands on him. I look up from the sink to see him smiling at me from across the room. Early in the morning when I come in the door after running ragged at the hospital for 13 hours, he pushes my curls back and tells me I am beautiful.  When I hover over the stove or the sewing machine or clean clothes, I can feel him watching me with eyes that love to pieces.

Sometimes I get quiet and my heart is heavy and somber and full with the weight of the reality of sin and death and how it crumbles and breaks people who seem to deserve more, better. Then he sits quiet with me, and let's me be sad. Sometimes I'm crazy and I back the car into the neighbors fence or I lose things like the Apple TV remote (which has been missing for over two weeks and I'm pretty sure I threw it away). He laughs with me as I chuckle at myself, always. Sometimes I'm sassy and grumpy, and even then he wraps his arms around me from behind and holds me still until I smile. And I always smile.

So I feel convicted about scripture memory, and I'm reading blogs and skimming articles when I come across this post. And it  challenges me with this scripture memory project. And so I open the Word that is the only Word, that is life and strength and food for my soul. I open it to Romans 8 and I begin with verse one.

"There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus."

And I feel His face turn toward me and His grace wash over me.

Grace.

I have made poor choices, and Sam knows. I have chosen wrong, I have  played on the devils playground too many times in my life, long before I even knew him who will be my husband. And he knows this, because he knows me.. All of me. And yet, even at my worst, when I disappoint him with my words or with my actions, when I fail at building him up, when the ugly parts of me show and he realizes I am not all good all the time, even then he turns his face toward me and his eyes show love and his hands are gentle and he pours out favor I do not deserve. 

Grace.

He looks at me as though I could do nothing wrong, even though he knows my flesh. When I finally get to see my Savior face to face, I will feel ashamed of my sin, but I know He will see me only as one made perfect by the blood of the Lamb. I imagine that the way He will look at me, showing only grace, will be so much like the way that my fiancé looks at me on a daily basis. I see Jesus in him, and I feel Jesus in the way he loves me, unconditionally.

"There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus."

 Grace.