I had a very poignant moment recently one morning at church. Each week, we have the opportunity to participate in what they refer to as “The Table,” a sweet time of remembering how Jesus sacrificed Himself on the cross for my sins, the new life I now have in Jesus, and the unhindered relationship I have with God because my sin no longer separates me from Him.
It has personally taken some getting used to, having the opportunity to take communion every week. I grew up in a church where this was something saved for certain times of the year, with the intention (I believe) that it be reserved as a very purposeful and intentional act. So, when I was presented with the chance to do this weekly, I didn’t quite know how to process that, and trust that it wouldn’t become something more routine and less meaningful.
This is still a process for me, but one that I gladly receive as an opportunity to examine my heart and to be reminded of the truth of the Gospel, that I so badly need to think on and receive each and every day. And also an opportunity to learn how to receive it with joy and gladness and even celebration, which somehow feels sacrilegious to me, because I have also associated ‘The Lord’s supper’ as a somber act. But because of this amazing act on Jesus’ part, I can rejoice in what it means for me now – and the fact that He is not dead! He is alive and living inside of me!
So, back to the other morning. I was just sitting back down in my seat, with the little juice cup and piece of bread, and spilled the grape juice on my hands and some fell on my high heel. And in that moment, the Holy Spirit gave me an image of a message that He’s been whispering to my heart for a while now.
‘This is going to be messy. Communion with Me – choosing My life and My ways – is going to look messy.’
Communion with Jesus, to me, is about heading into waters that I cannot handle without Him. No – it’s about acknowledging that there are NO waters that I can handle without Him, and that my best attempt to tackle the waves I face is really just me treading water. (Treading water – to be active, but without making progress or falling farther behind.) This is exactly what my attempts at perfecting my own life and trying my best to perfectly obey the Lord have been.
Part of this, for me, is recognizing and choosing to let go of the lie that I need to feel fully prepared and ready before I take the first step into the water (as if I was going alone), instead of trusting that God is with me, that He is fully qualified to tackle any obstacle I will face, and that ultimately this journey is more about me staying connected to Him (abiding) than about anything ‘accomplished’ through my life, messy looking or not.
Truth – His presence equips me for any wave I will face.
Until recently, messy to me has equaled bad, an indication that something has gone wrong, that I missed some instruction somewhere and that’s why things aren’t falling into place in a nice and tidy manner. Therefore, messy meant being out of step with the Lord, as thought it was an indicator of the lack of His presence or at least intimacy with Him. In fact, I still think messy is bad in some ways. I like order and structure and when things have their place. (cue perfectionism to center stage)
But the truth is, mess has it’s place. I just haven’t made room for it in my life. It is not welcome or warmly received. (Ugh, even as I type this I recognize the awfulness of this statement.)
No wonder I have struggled believing that I am accepted? Who better than God knows what an utter mess I am than myself?
Grace. Thankful that Jesus has spoken that word over my life by the cross.
So the Lord is talking to me about ‘making room’ for mess in my life. And with that, His grace. When I acknowledge what is already there (a whole bunch of mess) and purposefully release my attempts at changing myself, that is when I can receive God’s grace. Because I have been living a life of half-surrender (if that is even possible), still trying to control and manage my life ‘for God’, which truthfully are nothing but filthy rags. (Isaiah 64:6)
It sounds so ridiculous as I type it out, that I could believe some of this stuff, but that’s the sneakiness of the enemy’s lies – until they are brought out into the light, admitted, acknowledged, and challenged, they hold so much power. But challenged, the lies fall flat against God’s Truth.
So one conclusion to all of this: I can’t hold onto the other safety nets that plan B’s offer and proclaim the gospel that only by Jesus can I be saved. It’s utter ridiculousness. But isn’t this what I have been doing when I place my hope in anything other than Him? I have to let go of the lie that there is some other way to do this thing called life besides the path to surrender to Jesus.
Pure Grace.
Undeserved.
Scandalous.
When I am desperately dependent on God, that is when I really learn the truth of the gospel, and only then can I proclaim it well.
So, to bring things into the light, I admit, acknowledge and challenge the lie that I have believed for a long time – that my life needed to look together in order to show people what Jesus had to offer them. And so, in my deceived heart, I pursued what I thought best glorified the Lord – my best attempts at obedience and pointing others to Him with my words and actions, and only presenting my struggles and weaknesses when I could wrap them in a bow of “but God is doing this, that, or the other” – trying to make it all understandable and explainable. Because for me, ‘I don’t knows’ are not appealing. They have not offered peace and comfort. And why would anyone want to give up their life to Jesus if it looked so messy, chaotic and unpredictable?
In such a subtle way, I have been missing it. I didn’t know that when I embraced my sin in order to fully embrace grace, that peace was on the other end of that.
I thought the mess had to be gone in order for peace to be evident.
Messiness does not have to mean chaos (lacking peace). One doesn’t have to be the other.
(Maybe this seems pretty simple and straightforward for you, but for me, this is profound, heart-transforming revelations right here.)
I thought that sanctification had to be completed (or at least mostly) in me for others to see Jesus.
But it doesn’t.
I guess it didn’t matter how many times I had read and heard 2 Corinthians 2:19, I still believed my weaknesses had to be in a pretty, shiny frame for the Lord to reveal Himself through me.
“My grace is enough for you: for where there is weakness, my power is shown the more completely.”
– 2 Corinthians 2:19 (PH)
And I’m not talking about the shades of weaknesses like how I struggle to keep my house clean or how I have about 10 meals I know how to cook, period. Those are safe. I’m talking about the weaknesses that your palms get sweaty thinking about, let alone actually even voicing them to someone else.
What the Lord is speaking to me about all of this:
“Accept my grace (period). It’s enough. I will reveal Myself to you and through you as I choose in My ways as I desire. There is no way you’re going to be able to predict it or produce it yourself. So stop trying. Just rest in my complete and utter acceptance of you, and know that I will do it.’
“For it is God who works in you to will and to act according to His good purpose.” – Philippians 2:13
“Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God.“ -2 Corinthians 3:5
“For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus. “ – Philippians 1:5
This truth is wrecking havoc on my heart, my theology, and my life. Seriously. To let my weaknesses take the forefront and trust that His strength will become more and more evident to me, in me, and only by His grace, to others.
It is no longer about me trying to have it all together, to work so hard on trying to make all the right decisions and to be prepared at every turn for each situation that I may face. It’s not about taking the time to get all my figurative ducks in a row or, as I so often do, waiting until the ‘right’ time to do things when circumstances seem favorable and conducive.
It’s now about trusting Him, about stepping out when I hear the whisper, insecure and afraid. Shifting my focus off myself and my condition to Jesus. Knowing that it is well with me because it will always be well with Him, and I am in Him. “And He is mine.”
As I looked down at the drip of juice on my shoe, it looked beautiful. And perfect.