Lunacy

Just because this blog is called scribbling beautiful grace.
Doesn't mean I always do it.

Yes.  To the scribbling.

But so often no.
To the grace.

I am a recipient gladly.

Of Grace.
Undeserved favor.  Unfathomable love.
From God.

A word costing so much.
But so often.
Taken so lightly.

Because I think I know best.
How the days should look.
The running of things.  What I want.
And what He should do.

What about that?

When there's not enough to suit me.
Disappointment running hard and deep.
The constant striving. 
To make the happy.

The un-worship of it all crashing down.
Unsettling.  Confusing. 
The whys bumping into each other.
On a daily basis.

But then.

The God-That-Is
getting my attention.
Again.
And not letting go.

And me.
Having to realign my picture.
Of God.  Of Grace.
 
Unraveling the illusions and the subtle lies.
The putting myself at the center of happy.
And the good life. 

Because a relationship.
This grace thing.  And He.
Full of glory.
Redefining happy.

I am finding sometimes in the pain.
When our lack outweighs the lies.
The pages turn.
And we see. Really see.
 
This Giver of Grace. 

Worthy of worship.
And trust.
 
All the time.

In my search.
C.S. Lewis reminding me.

Do I really think
he could be the grandfather
of the universe,
who, when the day is done,
says,
'A good time was had by all'?

Is such a thing even possible on any level?
If we stop to think about it.
The ramifications of such a system.

Would we even want this for our children?
For ourselves?
A benevolent despot.  A grandfather figure.

Or One.

Whose divine goodness
and purposes go far beyond our imaginings?

Who suffered the most
to give me Grace.

All the time.

In my lack.  In my need.
In the deep dark of the night.
When I am scribbling darkness
without even realizing it.
Having to catch myself.  Redirect.

C.S. Lewis says it best.

"A man can no more
diminish God's glory
by refusing to worship Him
 
than a lunatic
can put out the sun

by scribbling

the word 'darkness'

on the walls
of his cell."

Well.
What about that?

God's glory surrounding and I scribble darkness.

The un-worship.
Lunacy.



 

Come in.

 



Go ahead.  Open the gate; it sticks sometimes but don't let that stop you, please come on in.  You are welcome here . . . unless, of course, you feel you have to whisper and pretend to be something you're not . . . then you may be uncomfortable.  But you are still most welcome.

Think of this as a place to relax, put your feet up, get comfy.  Breathe.  Take off that mask. Let down your guard.  Aaaah.  Doesn't that feel better?

I like to think of it as the house described in  Fellowship Of The Ring.  Remember Bilbo's description?  It was a place of safety for Frodo; "a perfect house, whether you like food or sleep or storytelling or singing, or just sitting and thinking best, or a pleasant mixture of them all."

Not perfect in the sense of perfect!  Perfect in the sense of safety, a calm in the storm, a place of quiet; acceptance and having someone love on you a little bit.  A plate of cookies.  Cool sheets.

Scribbling beautiful grace is about life.  Not perfection.  Not what isn't but what is.  Despite the pain and the challenges, the good and the bad; there is grace all around us - if we have eyes to see.  I come terribly flawed but am privileged to live in grace.  I know life isn't about me but about celebrating the beauty and loving the Beautiful.  Share this journey with me.  I would be delighted.

Come in.