I’ve been writing this particular blog in my head for awhile. Your Head? you say incredulously, to which I reply back, Yes, all my best writing is in my head and just the scraps make it to this blog so if you like my blog you should see my head!
I’ve been thinking about thankfulness and grace for awhile and several things have struck me. One is, how different would I live if I truly grasped the meaning of grace and what it actually is and the other thing was how thankful I am, how thankful I should be and how thankful I plan to be.
Of grace, I finally get it. It’s a choice. To choose not to live under self-imposed suffering to atone for sins already forgiven. I’m sure I’ll forget tomorrow but hopefully I’ll re-read this and maybe it will encourage me to live life like I know I should be. We, Christians that is, say it’s by grace we are saved and that not of ourselves yet feel weighed under from baggage of guilt that we never let go of. One of my friends is going through a hard time and while out of town drank too much. A wonderful friend of hers took care of her, held her hair, cleaned her up and got her into bed. The next day my friend couldn’t stop apologizing. Her friend shot back finally, “what is it with you Christians? You carry a huge bag of guilt around with you all the time like you are Santa Claus! Is that really that fun for you?”
I am always feeling guilty or bad about something. I cringe over what my unfiltered mouth can spout out and back myself into a quiet guilt corner until I’m useless to myself and others, consumed only with me. I can be so greedy. Like a child. Summit’s new word is “Me!” and he says it over and over passionately, consumed only by his own needs. and that’s fine. He’s a baby, yet even as an adult I sometimes fall back under that faulty way to thinking. Even being self-depreciating and harsh with myself can be a form of inward focus and also cause me to become entirely too self- focused. Just letting go, as wrong as it can feel, and accepting pure forgiveness for all the crap I do could change my life.
and being thankful. I sigh out loud melodramatically and I contemplate the simplicity of this. Why can’t the simple things in life be easy? I think that the simplicity throws me off sometimes. I try to figure it out, but it’s just there in front of me ready to be taken. I rationalize myself out of living life unrestrained, unfettered by the anchors of blindness and ignorance.
I am so, so unbelievably thankful that I am not a carrier of the fragile x syndrome that I was told I was more than likely carrying. Fragile x is a genetic disorder that I would have passed down in a flip of the coin type of manner to any children. and I had come to grips, to terms, that I would never have any more children. because honestly, I’m strong, but not that strong.
I feel restored. My blood cleaned. My state with so many bad marks erased.
My heart healing?
I think so. I feel like I’m slowly coming back together, like the broken pieces of a vase, not just coming together, but actually being stronger than before my brokenness. Even more whole. Can that be? I’m not on my own. Can the mentally unstable sounding idea of relying on (a)God really be that crazy? I’m tired of breaking myself on him.