[t]Humbelina

Redemption.
You scoop me up from my self-made pit and hold me gently in Your palms
Yet I squabble--writhing.
"No...No...No."
Pride pushing out on all sides of Your hands, trying to claw out of my self-made pit  
  -on my own. 
To take (control)
To be able to say, "It's okay. I've got it handled." 
But You hold me tightly--patiently--with a love that I will (never be able to) comprehend.

Until after writhing and clawing for minutes, hours, days (sometimes weeks)
I.
   Give.
           Up.
               ...Defeated. Absolutely defeated.
                                                                (Or am I?)

2 Corinthians 12:9, He says:
"My grace is sufficient for you. For my strength is made perfect in weakness."
Your strength.
Hands wrapped tightly around me as I sit raw and shaking, defeated in Your loving palms. 
In this fragile state I once again tentatively stand (touch the outer walls)
   --the outer walls of your loving hands--
Of grace.
Strength.

And I find myself once again in awe that after all of my writhing and squabbling and tempers and anger and pride and control and absolute bitterness
That You are still (here)
Holding me gently between Your palms
      grace.
amazing Grace.
      Jesus.

Abba, help me to lean on You moment by moment.
To rest in Your palms.
To trust You.
(I'm letting go.)

Bathrobe Jesus

“This is how God showed his love among us: He send his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.”  ~1 John 4:8-9

I’ve always been a perfectionist. It has been a constant struggle for me to accept work I would create as sub par. This perfectionism unfortunately seeped into my relationships as well. It is a constant struggle to not only accept myself and my imperfections, but also to accept other’s imperfections, especially when I feel as though “people can be better.”

This mindset has only brought me extreme depression and hopelessness, as I find that no one fits into my “perfect” friend image (thereby leaving me lonely), and even worse, I am incapable of accepting love myself as I feel it is horrendously undeserved (because I can’t be loved until I am perfect in this area or that area).

That’s why this Jesus man has never made sense to me in my faith journey. I can’t understand grace from God (unmerited favor). Unmerited favor basically means, “You did ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to deserve this. And you can’t do anything to earn this favor and love. It’s just there, Amber. A gift...FOR YOU.” The concept of doing absolutely nothing and receiving a gift, a GORGEOUS GIFT, makes absolutely no sense to my perfectionistic, “to get it you have to earn it” self.

It was described this past week that Jesus is my scholarship. The speaker was an African American, and he spoke of how he made his way through college by a scholarship he won. “I wish I could say that I earned that scholarship—that I wrote an essay that beat out thousands, but really I just won that scholarship because I’m black. That was it. I won it for something that was out of my control in the first place.” He then went on to describe how Jesus is my scholarship that I have won. God gave me Jesus just because He loved me. His love is something I can’t earn through a “well written essay” or "good deeds."

*  *  * 

When I became a Christian, several items became true of me because of my trust and faith in Christ. I was justified in God’s eyes (Romans 3:24-30), reconciled (reconnected) to God (Romans 5:10), adopted into God’s family (Romans 8:15), and received an eternal relationship with God (Ephesians 2:13). There are so many more on that list, but you get the point. Now I read this list and I think, “WOW. That’s so WONDERFUL.”

Although this beautiful Truth has always made logical sense to me, I have never quite been able to FEEL it. What does it feel like to have won this scholarship called Jesus? Have I actually accepted that I’ve won a scholarship all the way, deep down? Or am I still trying to earn it through “being a better person” and “perfection?”

For some reason, as I was growing increasingly agitated at this entire concept of grace not again sinking in, I remember it being said that I am “clothed in the righteousness of Jesus Christ.”

That sentence hit a chord deep within me on Sunday night.

“JOANNA,” I exclaimed to my friend, “JESUS IS LIKE MY BATHROBE. THAT IS SO WONDERFUL. HE IS SO GREAT. HE’S MY BATHROBE. AND I DON’T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING TO EARN IT.”

Naturally I got an “I have no clue what you are talking about look,” so I had to explain it to her and stop jumping around the room like a frantic rabbit.

Now, this beautiful analogy of the Gospel has hit such a beautiful spot inside of my soul, this spot that has always struggled with “I’m not good enough for God and never will be.” The part that says, “You might as well give up; you’re never going to be perfect.” The spot in my soul that struggles with depression and imperfection and feeling unloved and unlovable. And this has hit such a beautiful spot inside of my soul, the Gospel has as it has FINALLY made deeper sense through this analogy, that I want to share it with YOU.

*  *  *

God really likes robes. In fact, being the Creator of the Milky Way, and the laws of physics, and Hammerhead sharks, He really deserves la crème de la crème—which is a beautiful, ornate robe from ME. Unfortunately, I wasn’t provided with the right fabric or skillsets to make a bathrobe, and I end up creating pants, shirts, and socks to wear—everything but a bathrobe. Sometimes I get close and make a cloak, but it’s still not that robe that God desires. Seeing that I’m incapable of making this robe, the Great Seamstress (God) GIVES ME a free bathrobe so that I can wear it—this robe has a name, and His name is Jesus.

THERE IS HOPE FOR ME, A HORRIBLE SEAMSTRESS, AFTER ALL!!

The only problem with this robe is that it is just lying around in my room.  Sometimes I pick it up and look at it; sometimes I sniff it, intrigued by all of its layers and smell and such. Frequently, I find myself studying the design (character of Jesus), hoping that if I stare at it long enough, I can replicate it and create my own robe without even picking His up. Then I wouldn’t need to wear this robe in the first place; I can just do it on my own--it’d be perfect.

The last thing I want as a perfectionist is to surrender to the fact that I can never make a big, plushy bathrobe with the little bit of material I’ve been able to scrape up. But what if I would choose to accept that God gave me this free, plushy bathrobe and that I wouldn’t have to work to make one anymore?

NO. I CAN’T DO IT. I CAN’T ACCEPT THAT I DON’T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING TO THIS GRAND, ORNATE ROBE THAT IS LYING ON THE GROUND. I’m a perfectionist after all, and this idea that I can be imperfect and that God would love me IN SPITE of that absolutely BOGGLES MY MIND. I can’t understand that kind of Design—that kind of love.  

Jesus is my big, plushy bathrobe. He is my righteousness, my perfection, my grace, my Superhero. God looks down on me and all He sees is my big plushy bathrobe—he doesn’t see the feeble sewing attempts underneath. (Like the time I tried to make a skirt out of yarn or a shirt with paper…ha...oops.) The robe of Jesus covers all those mistakes up, and it protects me and keeps me warm.

The best thing about this Jesus bathrobe is that I AM ALLOWED TO BE IMPERFECT. God looks down and He sees Perfection (which is Jesus), which gives me ABSOLUTE FREEDOM to try and keep sewing my imperfect, 80's style leather shirts and wool pants underneath. By looking at the design of the robe (character of Jesus), I begin to grow into this new role I have been given—Daughter of God—as I begin to uncover what that means and slowly learn how to sew (be Christ-like and how to love) through TRIAL AND ERROR.

I now know (even though I'm aware that I WILL forget occasionally due to chronic soul amnesia) that I’m never going to be perfect at sewing, but I can maybe learn what the difference is between silk and flannel and hatch out a rough design, all with the certainty that I am covered and protected by the robe of Christ. No matter if I make a pair of pants out of denim or sequins, they’re all the same in God’s eyes because of that big, plushy BEAUTIFUL, LIFE-SAVING robe.

THAT, my friends, is the Gospel, clothed in metaphor (pun).

That is what has radically changed my lifestyle, mind, and actions this past year.

POWERFUL.

For the last two days, when I have been feeling distraught, anxious, fearful, depressed, I literally begin to feel this plushy bathrobe around me and it reminds me of the Truth in my heart and spirit. SO GOOD. Words and theology are wonderful, but I am so feeling oriented that this has radically helped my understanding of the Gospel and JUST HOW MUCH God loves me.

Here’s to the assurance and reality of GRACE only through Jesus Christ!

Peace, friends!

 Last day of 2012, the day this Jesus is a Bathrobe analogy was birthed into my brain.

When He shall come with trumpet sound,


Oh, may I then in Him be found;


Dressed in His righteousness alone,


Faultless to stand before the throne.”

~The Solid Rock

Here's the Gospel without a bathrobe analogy...probably has better theology too. But...hey. I like analogies. And bathrobes. And big epiphanies. And Amber excitement.
 So...to each his own. :) 

http://marshill.com/the-gospel