a dance with Grace

today.

waking up to early i made my way down to breakfast. I lingered in bed praying my head ache away, all the while thinking of the so called 'greatest cinnamon rolls in town' that were just steps from my door at the high class Holiday Inn Express. I decided i had to pee, and the thought of coffee going down my throat and waring against my headache pushed me towards the door until i was sitting in the little room with a few others eagerly waiting the start of the day.

It is strange these continental breakfasts. They are really not that good. I mean, if you love generic cereal, suffacated boiled eggs, english muffins, or stale coffee, then these meals are for you. But i think the people are hoping no one will notice how bare the taste is because it is so early. Either way, i am always there. Because it is, well, free.

I love to get free stuff. I have lingered in conference halls until no one is watching just to pick up a free pen. wow. there i said it. That makes me feel a bit embarrassed. I don't really need another pen advertising a college, or a t-shirt that doesn't fit me, but I am always trying to get them. There is some kind of satisfaction is receiving something that i didn't have to pay for. As far as i know, everyone likes to get something free. A free meal, a free car wash, a free t-shirt, a free pair of shoe laces that comes with your shoes. Just a little something that makes you feel like you did something good, deserving. Something that makes me say inside, "YES! I got this, it is MINE, and I didn't pay for it!". I think i saw this 'free passion' in the movie Lord of the Rings. Something about a precious ring that eventually makes people go crazed. Well, i don't usually go crazy over my free pen (unless it glows when you push a button, illuminating the name of Jesus), in fact, i usually lose them before i even get on the bus. But that is not the point.

I am reading a book tonight called "Blue Like Jazz". No, it is not about Jazz, or being blue. I am not sure when the title will come into play, but it is about the journey we all go on while we discover Christ. And i do mean DISCOVER. I think there is a danger in thinking i know Christ, even just a little. It is dangerous for me to believe that reading, fasting, praying all the time or any other spiritual discipline with bring me closer to him. I know that he did these things, and that they are important, but i feel by doing them 'religiously', i am setting myself up for some HUGE let down. He is perfect. I am not. The author writes about how we all have a sinful nature. and to try to get rid of this, outside of Christ, is impossible. That Christ himself must be the reason that we CAN overcome our shortcomings. That we must realize we are fallen and we need a saviour. We just can't do it ourselves. That sucks, but it is so true. I left off when he was talking about grace. The item that most don't understand and few take part of.

I remember the first time i had sex. i wish i could say it was with my husband, but it wasn't. it was with a guy that was almost a stranger. i tried to talk myself into believing it was ok because my sister dated his brother once. and they went to church too, so this guy was ok, and the fact that he was always high really didn't matter. it was a time in my life when i was angry at God. life got me. it put a gun to my head and someone pulled the trigger. there were times i wish that image were real, but God had a different punishment for me. Grace. I learned about this thing called grace and i wondered how someone could just look at me while i am covered and layered with sin and see me as pure again. my name, kathlene, means 'pure one'. i felt guilty. i couldn't accept his grace. it didn't make sense.

I've always liked free stuff. But it seemed strange to me that the one big free thing i was given, i didn't want and couldn't accept. It hasn't been easy accepting this grace. not just for my sex sin, but for every single one of my sins. i know i am saved. i know i am washed clean. and honestly i don't walk around filled with this rock in my soul called guilt. i love living a free life. and i throw my rock of guilt in the river as often as i can. I just find it interesting that tons of people struggle with guilt and shame and are unwilling to marry them with grace and mercy. And isn't that what it is, a perfect marriage, one reminding me of Christ and myself? This marriage is the only place that is right for guilt. But it is a marriage he resists. He does a perfect ballroom dance with grace, impressing her with turns and dips, all the while trying not to get to close. Guilt seems so acceptable, so sophisticated, so cunning, hidden. But much to his surprise, at the end of the dance Grace leans in and gives Guilt a kiss. Not just any kiss, but the kiss of death, shattering light into it's inner core.

then...peace.