Bible – Meagan Louise

Grace, Given.

I’ve been hearing a lot about grace lately. When the same word or idea presents itself over and over again, eventually my ears perk up and I realize that there’s something for me here. At first, it was the fact that I have RECEIVED grace, and Jesus died so that I could have it. He bore the weight of all of my sin, forever, so that I could be blameless before God. This is a big deal. Then it became the idea that if I have received grace, I should also GIVE grace.

Jesus told this story of a guy who owed a ton of money (like a TRILLION dollars worth of money), and after begging and pleading, the king actually forgave him of it. He gave him GRACE. Then this dude went out to people who owed him money, (like a couple hundred dollars) and even after they begged and pleaded, he threw them in jail until they could pay. Once the king heard about this, he was furious! Grace etiquette had been broken. This guy received grace at a high cost, but when given the opportunity to extend grace, he chose not to.

I had to ask myself, what do I chose? I thought, surely I choose to extend grace.

Jesus was waiting for me to ask this question.

Not an hour later, I got a phone call from someone I haven’t talked to in over 9 years. For good reason.

Long story short, when I was 18 my great-grandmother passed away, leaving me a trust fund my grandparents had set up for me when I was born, and everything in their home. Including furniture, pictures, clothing, jewelry. All of this was stolen from me, by family.

I ended up with a couple pieces of moldy furniture, and some costume jewelry that they claimed were wedding rings. My aunt was wearing my great-grandmothers wedding ring as she asked me to sign that I had received everything in full.

I was young, and naive. Thinking that people who once loved me, would always have my back. I was wrong. And I got screwed. My grandparents had a lot to give, and a lot to be taken…and it was all taken.

I didn’t care about the money, except that Babu and Papap wanted me to have it. They thought my education would be paid for, that they were setting me up for my future. I wanted to wear my grandmothers wedding ring on my wedding day. I wanted to sit in the chair my great-grandfather sat in EVERY day and smoked his cigars in. I wanted to hold pieces of them that reminded me of my time with them. The glass grapes my sister and I always got yelled at for playing with. The mink scarf Babu would delicately place on my shoulders as I twirled in her mirror. Memories of summers spent with grandparents. History. Family.

This phone call, was from one of these family members. All of the sudden, I realized I had NOT forgiven them. Even though it didn’t harbor on my mind, one second of their name appearing on my phone flooded my heart with anger and bitterness.

I was reminded quickly that those who receive grace, extend grace. And all of the sudden that question I had asked earlier was given a different answer. When given the opportunity, do I withhold or extend grace?

I didn’t like my answer.

Jesus said that we should forgive over and over and over and over. Seventy times seven. But can I forgive this transgression, just once? Forgiveness is not free. If someone steals from me, and I forgive them, I am saying, “It’s okay. I’ll pay the cost.”

What a difficult thing to say. But Jesus did. For all of us. The cost of offering us grace was death. I mean, someone FREAKING DIED FOR ME, and I can’t let a few thousand dollars go.

So I’ll think I’ll be focusing on grace. Memorizing it. Swirling it around in my mind, and absorbing what it means. Maybe if I soak it in, I can pour it out. Not forgiving, not offering grace, those are chains I put on myself. I want to be free.

Jesus. Thank you for offering me grace. For forgiving me the millions of times I’ve needed it. For dying for me so that I can come to you clean and new. Help me to see what that looks like, and help me to offer that same grace to the people around me. I want to rejoice in opportunities to extend grace, because it’s opportunities to be like You. Bless my family. Heal my family. Soften their hearts to receive love. Never stop chasing after them, and never let them forget that they too are forgiven. No matter what.

A Story of Mercy

Mercy: (especially of a journey or mission) performed out of a desire to relieve suffering; motivated by compassion

Walking through a tough season of pain, disappointment, and loss, I am feeling jaded and worn. My hallelujah is tired. I am tempted to draw a line in the sand of my faith and say, “I can’t go any further. I might even take a step back. This is TOO MUCH.”

But God is waiting in my doorway, standing on my doorstep, just waiting for me to open the door. He hasn’t left, and he hasn’t yelled to be let in. He’s just…waiting. I look out my windows at Him and contemplate the person that disappointed me. Who didn’t answer me when I called. I am angry at Him, and I am unsure of our relationship. How do I act if I let Him in? Can I hear what He has to say?

But then He sends people to me that I do trust. He softens the blow and heals my heart even though I’ve kept him standing on my doorstep. They tell me that He is waiting for me to show Him my brokenness. That if I would let him offer me mercy, He wants to relieve me of my suffering and fill me with the only things that can fill this hole in my heart. Faith, joy in suffering, and hope.

I unlock the deadbolt.

Unable to stop thinking about the storm swelling under the surface, I tell Him, “I’m not ready to let you in yet. But I’m here. I am still here.” I pull a chair up to the window and talk to Him through the door.

I ask a lot of questions, laced with distrust and anger. He listens.

I stop asking. And open the door a crack.

He reaches around the frame and holds my hand.

All he offers me is comfort. Reminders of his love for me. He tells me that His heart breaks too. That I am brave. And that the mercy of redemption is always on the table, and He is always sitting at it.

He stills sits on my doorstep, but my door is cracked a little. We are talking now. Maybe we’ll laugh some too.

But I’m not hiding anymore. My shades are not fully drawn. I’m letting the sun in, even when my skin cringes at the exposure.

{God, thank you for never withdrawing your mercy. Thank you that you never take mercy off the table for me. Help me to take it today and offer myself to follow you.}

3 Things About How God Speaks To Me

God said some big things to me today. BIG and CLEAR were these things, and I love how He talks to me. But I know that the idea of God talking to us can sometimes be very confusing. It tends to get blown up to this enormous mystery that only certain people seem to understand. But how I feel God talks to me is SO SIMPLE.

(But simple does not always mean easy.)

Now, I am not a genius. I am not a theological expert. I only speak from a place of experience, and of trial and error. Note that the “error” part is still a part of path that I am walking, and I am certain always will be.

That being said, I think that God talks to us often. I know He talks to me way more than I am listening. And sometimes, it takes big things and a lot of wandering to make me hear what He has to say.

But when I do…

1.) It sounds like my own voice.

I’ve never heard an audible, out-loud voice booming from the heavens. Usually, it’s just a thought. When I was a teenager, Gods voice sounded like a teenager (albeit a wise one) and now his voice sounds like a 20-something. He uses my language. He doesn’t speak in King James or use language I don’t understand. He is exactly who I need Him to be, exactly where I am.

2.) It often repeats itself.

When I see/hear the SAME thing over and over again, I start to pay attention. Sometimes it’s the meaning behind the same song, a phrase that different people keep saying, a scripture that seems to be everywhere I look. When something is repeating, it’s not coincidence, it’s God talking.

3.) It comes with peace, not confusion.

If the above two are happening, but I have a sense of confusion and not confidence, that’s not God. I know because HE SAID SO. Paul told the church at Corinth “For God is not a God of disorder but of peace” and since 2 Timothy 3:16 says that all scripture is God-breathed (meaning God spoke it), we can believe it to be true. God’s character doesn’t change, and His character is PEACE, not chaos or confusion. Anything that resembles the latter can be ignored.

There’s no formula or science behind hearing Him. HE WANTS US TO HEAR HIM. As a human, I like to overcomplicate things, but it’s just not that way. Thank goodness.

I also believe that God speaks to people differently. Like I said before, He is exactly who you need Him to be, exactly where you are.

How does God speak to you?

Can I Believe In The Bible?

Can I believe in the Bible?

I had a conversation yesterday with a friend who created a small paradigm shift in my thinking. The concept that the Bible contradicts itself, and not just in small, ironic ways, like instructing you to be a servant and in the same passage instructing you to be a leader. See, to be a leader is to serve. But that’s not what we’re talking about. We’re talking about historical “facts” being told differently by different people. Not personal accounts on stories, but things like the amount of time between Adam and Abraham.He was saying how the Bible is imperfect, and its not the bible in which we place our faith. This is odd, I was always, and still am told to “stand on the Word of God” and the “Word of God” being the Bible. So I ask the question, if event “A” is untrue, how can I believe anything else to be true? Because it makes sense? That’s not a very solid point to stand on. His response is, faith. I feel like that’s the answer to any unanswerable question and while I go with it, I’m not always okay with it. Feels like a religious cop-out.

When it comes down to it though, it’s not and never has been the Bible that roots my faith. It’s my relationship. It’s the experiences that I’ve had and personal life-change that fuel my faith. Scripture, I believe, is God breathed. But it’s God breathed THROUGH MAN, who is imperfect. Making it the perfectly imperfect account. It’s interesting how God works and mind boggling. Who am I to try to figure it out?

I will always rely on scripture and stand on God’s Word, but when people point out discrepancies, it won’t be a point of discouragement or confusion. It’s an honor that God is using His creation to communicate His heart towards us. He believes in us that much, and trusts that if we follow Him we will be LIKE him and a living example of the Word that is God.