I call the summer between my sophomore and junior year of college the summer that my faith became technicolor. In my previously black-and-white faith, grace was a word used merely to excuse sin – “it’s covered by grace! Praise Jesus! I can keep on being rude to my family and hating those different than me, plus do everything I want to do and know that I’m still saved.” I didn’t have a high view or a very personal view of grace, amazing though I professed it to be each time I sang the words of that familiar hymn.
And then I began to feel my futility in being righteous enough according to God’s standards. I started losing sleep out of anxiety that I was not doing enough for God and under the burden of trying to do everything right all of the time. I cried out to God in my first grace prayer that sounded like this: “God, I can’t do it anymore! You must help me!”
And wow, color flooded in like the Technicolor scenes of Wizard of Oz once Dorothy leaves Kansas. Grace was everywhere and in everything I read and many conversations I had that summer. Grace carried me and infused strength to me when I had finally professed that I had none left. Grace brought renewed joy to me in the God of my salvation who did my impossible at great cost to Jesus – rescued me from sin and set me free in hope to be a new creation in Christ.
Grace was on every page of Scripture. Romans, Galatians, Colossians, even the Old Testament pointed to it with promises in Ezekiel of a new heart and God’s invitation to his people over and over again to return to him, for he had redeemed them.
Part of the October 31-days writing challenge. Read the rest of my posts here.
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