Can it really be this simple?

I open my door wide and let her in with a smile. “Hi, come on in!” She’s a little nervous, but she is welcome here, I hope she knows that. She asks if she needs to take off her shoes, which almost makes me laugh because it’s been, um, lets go with “a few weeks” since I actually mopped the floor. Her shoes are welcome here too.

I’m aware of most of my shortcomings. My failures and weaknesses are familiar to me.  They can feel like a weight around my ankle or a reason to hide myself away. They feel like a really good reason not to open up to people, to keep a little distance and not get too close. But there is a work God has been doing in me. He’s inviting me into a state of grace, which I’ve been trying to understand and articulate. This is a part of it. An opportunity came up recently to start a young women’s fellowship group. While praying over whether to take this on or not, God led me to this –

“Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.” – Romans 5:1-5

We have peace with God. Now. Not later, when we’ve got things figured out, but now. And the Holy Spirit will be with us and lead us through from suffering to hope. It’s good news people. But following through is not comfortable for me. My nature wants to hide from inviting new people into my life, my home, because they might get to know me; not just the parts I willingly show, but all of me. Not just the, “Oh, this closet WAS a mess, but I organized it and now look how pretty it is,” that I can share by writing this blog, but also the junk drawers (plural) that are still excessively junky. My weaknesses will be found out in a conversation in a way they aren’t when I take the time to research, pray and write. I might end up saying something…brace yourself…wrong…(GASP!) the HORROR! This idiotic fear, that stems from pride, freezes me like nothing else, and Satan laughs. So God is teaching me to be willing to be wrong. (I know it’s weird, stay with me.) To leap, even when I can’t spot my landing, to venture beyond my own understanding, to swim in DEEP water.  To frolic in the unknown, if you will, rather than avoid it. If you think living a Christian life is boring, you aren’t seeing it clearly. God calls us to adventure, and we don’t usually know where the road leads, but HE DOES, so simmer down and enjoy the journey. Because hope does not put us to shame.

I’d rather have it all together before I go. To have all the answers before I begin to teach, to be perfected before I lead, to feel love before I give love. It sounds good and reasonable. But here’s the thing: that would only be necessary (or possible) if I were The Teacher or The Leader, thankfully I’m not. God has that position fully covered. I can minister in love to whoever I need to because, “God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit.” I need only to continually point to Him. As He teaches, we teach, as He leads, we lead, He loves therefore we love. I do not need to be perfect, I just need to be honest about the One who is. While I want to cancel myself out of useful service because of what I lack, He instead invites me jump beyond my own abilities to a place where I am reliant on Him, so He can work through me more fully, and so I will have no doubt it IS Him working. It is this state of grace in which we stand, to rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.

“Such is the confidence that we have through Christ toward God. Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us, but our sufficiency is from God, who has made us sufficient to be ministers of a new covenant, not of the letter but of the Spirit. For the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.” 2 Corinthians 3: 4-6

My mind is a lover of the letter, of a standard to line up against and declare myself worthy. Except that I’m not worthy, and I know it, so that leaves me with no life to give. The letter kills. Thank God for the Holy Spirit given to us because the Spirit gives life and that life can be shared. My sufficiency is from God, which is great because although I’m never going to have it all together this side of heaven, I can still love people with all I’ve got in the midst of our mess.  It’s how I understand this grace we are invited into, that though we are weak, through Christ we are made strong. Through Him we are forgiven, accepted, loved and welcomed together for the glory of our Creator. Not after some arbitrary standard is reached, but NOW.

So I started the group. And welcomed in young women with questions that I don’t know how to answer. I allow them to see my dirt so they know it’s okay to bring in theirs as well. We can learn a lot from each other. And those hard questions? I may not know all the answers, but I do know the One who does.

It really is that simple.

I wish I wrote this, but I didn’t. It is one of my favorite songs and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.