Maybe you’ve heard that ol’ saying, Be careful what you ask for. You just might get it.
I remember hearing my mama say, Don’t ask God for patience ’cause he’ll give it to you then test you. I kinda-sorta understood what she meant, so I never asked for patience. I didn’t like tests, and I certainly didn’t want one if God was giving it.
I suppose I don’t necessarily agree anymore with the theology behind that statement, but I know what it is to get what you asked for, then have to deal with it.
I wish somebody had told me to never ask for grace. Good lawd, I promise I didn’t know what I was asking for. In truth, I didn’t just ask for it and receive it. No, I sought it out. I read books and blogs and listened to sermons and songs. I guess I was desperate for it, although I still don’t know exactly why. But, oh my, I really just had no idea what it would mean for me.
I didn’t know the ache I’d endure. I didn’t know every time I’d want to hold a grudge, grace would sneak up and remind me to forgive. I didn’t know how I’d grit my teeth and hiss, They haven’t apologized, or Why should I? They haven’t forgiven me, or I can’t muster up any more grace.
I was also unaware that I’d have to learn to give myself grace. I didn’t know I’d have to quit beating myself up. I didn’t know I’d need to quit mentally repeating all my failures, or to stop calling myself names like Bitch, Loser, F#%k Up, and Toxic. I didn’t know that forgiving myself would be the hardest forgiveness of all. I didn’t know that giving myself grace would be such an expensive offering.
I didn’t know it would be much harder to walk the grace walk than to talk the grace talk.
Don’t be deceived: grace is not easy. It is hard and messy and will cost you every ounce of your pride.
