Grace is Greater

What? A book review in the middle of the week? Isn't that like a Saturday Six thing? Why, yes! It is! But today is different, partly because I had the chance to be on a book launch team, so I wanted to give a little more attention to this book. It's also different because today begins a new month and the Lenten season, and in honor of both those events, this topic is important.

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I first read Kyle Idleman's writing when he released Not a Fan. And I am a fan of Not a Fan. If you're not familiar with that book, it's a challenge to consider whether you're really following Jesus or if you prefer just to be His fan. Admiring what He does without getting too caught up in the demands and costs of discipleship. When I read that book, I did a lot of underlining and vehement nodding, and mental list-making of people I suspected could benefit from the truth of that book. (Just kidding on the last part.)

So when I found out about Grace is Greater, I knew I wanted to read it. And I want to say right up front, that I think the reason Kyle wrote this book is commendable. He shares in the beginning that after presenting the Not a Fan material (with much passion and holy-boldness gusto) at a conference, a gentleman came to his book table and handed him a scrap of paper with a Scripture reference written on it. Though normally such anonymous scraps would have been lost in the pocket-trash shuffle, he pulled this one out later and read it, looking up the verse to see what it said. Hebrews 12:15 - "See to it that no one misses the grace of God."

With that, Kyle felt conviction to make sure his Not a Fan message continued, but continued saturated in grace. Greater grace, less pulpit pounding. Yes. The message of Not a Fan is still true and important, but so is the grace of God. Grace that is greater than a whole passel of things we tend to put above it.

I'm pretty sure this is the exact message Satan hopes none of us ever fully grasp. When we realize the depth and fullness of God's grace, the devil loses a lot of ground, and that doesn't work for him. So he puts in a lot of overtime hoping we'll continue to believe that our guilt, brokenness, regrets, wounds, bitterness, vengeance, resentment, disappointments, weaknesses, and despair are all-consuming. Bigger than who we are. Bigger than God. And Kyle spends this entire book, refuting every one of those lies, chapter by chapter.

Maybe you never knew about grace. (It's not given much air-time in some churches.) Then again, maybe you have heard a lot about grace, but you've heard a misrepresentation of it. That happens in some churches, too. I appreciated Kyle's approach throughout the book, because he is honest about the bigness and freedom that comes with grace, but he's also honest about the repentance and consequences our actions require to receive that grace.

Another thing Kyle does well? Presenting truth beautifully with a trace of humor. He's just a flat out funny guy, and several times, I stopped to read stories to Ryan because they were just funny. But he didn't spend so much time trying to be funny that he sacrificed the truth of this important message.

A few of my favorite lines from throughout the book:

"Before we collide with the grace of God, we must collide with the truth of our own sin. I wonder what hard thing Jesus would say to you and me." - p. 39

"You may not be locked up behind bars, but that doesn't mean you're not a prisoner. Most of us are desperate to be free from the guilt and regrets that imprison us." - p. 54

"Stop thinking about what's been done to you and start thinking about what's been done for you." - p. 85

"Whining is the opposite of worship, and complaining is the rival of grace." - p. 138

(There were many more!!)

Since this is the first day of Lent, maybe this is a good time to give up some of those regrets and the bitterness and other such things, and make room to receive the grace that is greater than all of it. The grace for which Christ died to make possible. Perfect timing, don't you think?



 * Baker Books provided a copy of this book at no charge. All opinions are my own. *

Grace...Is Now

One of my favorite parts of each morning is scrolling through the posts "on this day" from all my years on Facebook. I enjoy seeing what I've been up to over the past few years and watching my journey. You know how all the versaries make me so happy, so to see them neatly organized for me while I drink my coffee and plan my day is about the best thing ever.

Yesterday, the thought I shared "on this day" in 2010 included words to Selah's Unredeemed song. "Life breaks and falls apart, but we know these are places where grace is soon to be so amazing. {Would love to know when the SOON part hits...}"

I remember 2010. Yes. Life indeed breaks and falls apart, and I was in the throes of it that month. And I had heard just about all I could bear of hang in there and all things work together for good and all the other good Christian answers. I knew they were true. I just couldn't bear them when I wanted an actual date and a time of when grace would soon be so amazing.

Anyone there today?

We've ached for some of our friends so much lately. People our very own age, losing spouses to cancer. When I think about them and I consider my own dreams for Shafferland, and all the items on our bucket list yet to be crossed off, I can't imagine knowing the whole list itself could be crossed off because of an ugly disease.

One of my friends wrote to ask me to pray for her husband because something was not right and they were hoping for answers soon, and before she even wrote me with the answer, she wrote to tell me he was gone. My jaw dropped clear to the floor when I read that email.

Life breaks and falls apart. Oh yes it does.

And in 2010, mine broke and fell apart, and I'm pretty sure some pieces rolled so far away that I never found them. The only sufficient answer, I felt, was for a guarantee of a specific time when it would all be fixed and I could do things like smile and breathe and eat more than four chips at once.

{Be careful what you wish for on that chip thing.}

For me, the grace I was seeking the most came two years later when Ryan entered my life. But let me tell you...there were buckets of grace poured over me even before he became part of my days.

Grace was amazing when I got the job at WBCL. Grace was amazing when I published my book. But you know what else? Grace was amazing when I opened my eyes every morning.

I didn't see it as grace then. I saw it as another day to be endured. But it was grace. Grace kept me going when my heart wanted to die. Grace urged my co-workers to cover for me when all I could do was sit at my desk and cry...when working wasn't an option. Grace sent friends to drag me out of the house and make me participate in something. Anything. Grace shuffled songs on a radio playlist so I heard every lyric I needed to in the right moment. Grace ordained sermons and devotions on pages of books published decades ago.

All grace.

Grace was amazing much sooner than I recognized it as such.

And so it is for you. If life is breaking and falling apart, and you just want to shake my shoulders and scream "WHEN? WHEN IS GRACE SOON TO BE SO AMAZING? TELL ME!"

Now.

Right.

Now.

Look. It's there. All grace.

The Saturday Six

One.

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I feel I would be out of line if I did not pause to remind you that Fixer Upper starts NEXT WEEK! {Tuesday, to be exact.} Poor Ryan - he'll be losing the remote for that hour. It's the one show I have to watch live, because I have to chat about it on Facebook with my fellow Fixer Upper junkies. Can't wait to see what they come up with this season. Welcome back, Chip and JoJo!

Two.

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Yes, yes!! This!! Putting boundaries on the holidays so you can enjoy them instead of feeling overcome by them. Well said, KariAnne!

Three.

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I think this post has some powerful {and necessary} points about focusing on what is holy instead of trying to make everything perfect. It offers all kinds of grace.  

Four.

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One thing Ryan and I really appreciate about our church is the music. Our worship pastor, Jordan, is gifted. Not just gifted musically, but gifted in her soul. She's insightful, she works hard, and whenever we are away from our church, we sorely miss the music. I just saw this week that she's released some music of her own! These are songs that she wrote and recorded, and many of the worship team folks from our church are part of this project with her. I'm excited for her that she's had the opportunity to share her talent in this way, so I wanted to share it with YOU! 

Five.

It's been a while since I shared an embarrassing photo of the Bekah of yore. One of my high school friends had a birthday this week and another friend posted this one in honor of that day. I'd never seen this picture before. Can you find me? 

Six.

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This week, I took a break from Hallmark Christmas movies {sigh of happiness} to read the fun, feel-good novel Every Girl Gets Confused by Janice Thompson. This book is the second in a series called "Brides of Style" - and even though I had not read the first book in the series, I was able to jump in easily and learn the characters.

While I enjoyed the read, I will begin by saying the book was nothing like what I expected based on back cover synopsis. The back cover focuses on Katie Fisher and her new relationship with pro-basketball star Brady James, and while they are significant characters in the book {the story is actually told in first person by Katie}, the bulk of the love story centers around Katie's 80 year old grandmother, who has found love again, after being a widow for several years. She's not even mentioned on the back cover.

I've actually never read an octogenarian love story before, so I giggled over and over as Queenie {Katie's grandmother} went through the process of finding a dress, having bridal showers, and sharing the details of falling in love with a local minister of a different denomination. It was cute and funny.

Additionally, Katie worked at a bridal shop, so reading about the behind-the-scenes stresses of designers trying to please brides and the in-the-shop stresses of families at odds with each other and bearing strong opinions over dresses and weddings was a fun twist in the story.

Some things, to me, didn't feel entirely natural, but they weren't so over-the-top that I couldn't enjoy the story through them. Sometimes the story line of Queenie and her senior citizen cronies felt a bit too eccentric, but I still found much humor in their eccentricities. Sometimes I wasn't sure I believed that Brady's character was normal for a pro-athlete. Sometimes the push-and-pull issues of one of the main families shopping in the bridal store seemed completely unrealistic. And sometimes I wanted to know more of Katie's emotions, since I saw the story from inside her head. I felt like I got to know what happened around her more than I got to know her, which felt awkward for a first-person narrative.

Despite those things, I enjoyed the story, I appreciated its light-hearted feel, and I thought it was a fun, easy read.

* Thanks, Revell, for sending me a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. *

Small World, Big Impact: Mr. McBride

Can I introduce you to another person from my formative years who made a big impact on my tiny world?

He taught Chemistry. Chemistry was not my friend. The only thing I remember from Chemistry class was that one day I leaned against the lab table and some {still unknown to me} chemical that had apparently dripped on the table ate three holes in the front of my skirt. Right through the fabric. All the way. Unfortunately, since I still don't know what it was, if I ever encounter it again, I'll be bidding a fond farewell to another piece of clothing.

Mr. McBride loved Chemistry, and his greatest desire was for all his students to understand the deep mystery of the science. I have no doubt at all that I was the stupidest student to ever cross his path. He must have explained the concepts to me dozens of times, and still, I never even came close to comprehending them.

I was a good student. An honor student, actually. And while science wasn't my favorite subject, I had managed my way through earth science and biology...and then...my brain just shut down in ways I had never experienced before. Chemistry could not and would not break through.

I dreaded his class, because I viewed it as the bitter end of my honors status. I tried so hard. I really did. I studied. I went in after school for special tutoring. I found the smartest guy in our entire school and asked him to be my lab partner. He even came to my house to help me study after school. And still: nothing.

It was a frustrating and disheartening experience for someone who had always been able to learn...to be enrolled in a class necessary for graduation and face the truth that passing was unlikely at best.

Truth? The fact that I made it through is a mathematical impossibility. {I wasn't any good at math either, but I was decent enough to know that.} If you looked at the {mostly failing} scores of my tests and assignments, you would see what I mean. I should never have passed.

Mr. McBride, though, was a kind man. He saw my effort. He saw my desire to stay afloat. Forget succeeding...I just wanted to survive. He looked at me kindly and ever so patiently explained the formulas to me again. And when my chin quivered and my eyes filled with tears, and I asked him how I would ever pass his class, he just kindly asked me to keep trying.

The only F that ever appeared on my report card came in Chemistry class. Failed the daylights out of the final. There it sat, for my parents to read. And I should have failed the entire class. But in that class, I learned the meaning of grace. I didn't ace the class. I didn't even make the honor roll in that season because of that class. But I cherished that C in Chemistry far more than any A+ in English, because that C was a gift from a teacher who clearly graded me on effort.

Thank you, Mr. McBride, for doing everything you could to help me pass your class. And when you saw that I was one of "those" students and there was truly no hope...thank you for grace. Thank you for caring about a student who was a total failure in the subject of your passion and life's work. Thank you for making it possible for me to graduate from high school...or otherwise, I would still be your 36 year old student in tutoring. We both know it. I will never forget your kindness and your patience, but most of all...your mercy.

I know Mr. McBride has since retired, and I don't know where he is...but I have never forgotten him, and because of his mercy alone, I have one positive memory of Chemistry.

Thankfulness, Part 1

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and I wanted to spend today and tomorrow sharing some things that make me extra thankful. I'm thankful for much more than these two lists say, but in honor of Thanksgiving, I wanted to share these this week!

1. Ryan's big family.

I grew up in a pretty little family. My dad is an only child, and my mom only has one sister. And I'm the caboose. So our holidays gatherings were pretty small - and even smaller once my grandparents died and all the cousins scattered across the U.S.A. So you can imagine my joy when I married into a family full of grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, and nephews! This picture is probably a quarter of the whole crew - and I do think I've learned everyone's name now - but it's a joy to be part of a big family! 

2. The desert.

It's been four full years now since I walked the desert road, and while it was a long, hot, dark, and exhausting season of my life, I remain thankful for it. I'm thankful for the dependence on the Lord it taught me, I'm thankful for the strength in me it uncovered, and I'm thankful for the way it taught me that God can redeem even the most desperate, hopeless times. I am the girl I am today because of that desert, and I am thankful for it. 

3. The long home sale journey.

Ryan and I never DREAMED, almost two years ago, when we put his house on the market, that it would be the ordeal it has become. We put it up for sale on our own and immediately got a bite and we believed that family would make it their forever home. A year later, they'd moved out, and we were heartbroken and burned by the debacle it became. We spent months cleaning and repairing the damage and put it back on the market. A few months in, we got an offer and had no idea it would take FOUR MONTHS to close on the offer - and that is HOPING it actually happens within a few days like we've been promised {again}. This has been the longest, most exhausting, faith-testing walk of our marriage, and we are tired and so ready to be done. But I'm thankful for the hard season, because it's showed us both what the other is made of in a trial. And for the man my husband is in a trial - I'm grateful. 

4. My book.

In the past couple of weeks, I've had orders come in for the book I published four years ago - in the heart of that desert. I'm still so thankful for the opportunity to publish that book and thankful that I still hold to the words I wrote. I'm thankful for the lessons I learned in the writing and the waiting, and I'm always grateful to hear from others what the book has meant to them. This book has been a blessing to me, and I'm glad its words have reached out to bless others too! 

5. Answers yet to come.

There are so many areas of life that remain a mystery to Ryan and me. And by so many, I mean all, and by life, I mean our immediate future. We pray long and often for answers and direction...and I know they will come...in time. Clearly not in MY time, but in time. And so for these mysteries of the future that are elusive to us right now - I'm grateful. 

6. Ryan.

The fact that he's #6 on the list is in no way a reflection of his importance in my heart. I am so crazy grateful for this man and the fact that he showed up on my porch and in my life. I'm thankful for the way he loves me, prays for me, supports me, and does life every single day with me. For all the people who told me that I needed to know that marriage wasn't really like I dreamed, I present Ryan. He has proven that marriage can be a daily joy.

7. Loves who said no.

Yeah. You'd LIKE a picture on this one, wouldn't you?? I liked a lotta guys in my day. Some never knew it, some didn't return it. And you know what? Some of those guys were really great, upstanding guys with good jobs and a wonderful heart for the Lord. And I asked the Lord OFTEN why He was withholding a yes...because it wasn't like I picked a bunch of deadbeats! But looking back, I'm so thankful for all the guys that didn't work out. Because of each no, I got my very best yes.

8. Heritage.

As thankful as I am for Ryan's big family, I'm also thankful for my own heritage. My siblings and parents and niece and grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins who all, in their own way, contributed to my life and laid a foundation for me. So thankful for the heritage I call mine.

9. Grace.

When I think about what I actually deserve for some of my past choices, actions, and sins, I'm so grateful for grace. Grateful for God's grace and the grace of those around me. Those who allow me to be a human who sometimes messes up. Those who are willing to look past my blunders to see my heart. Oh how thankful I am for grace.

10. Friendships - Forever and Seasonal.

I used to really beat myself up over friendships that changed or ended. I love all my friends, and feel somewhat like a failure when something changes. But God has been teaching me that some friendships are intended to be permanent life-gifts, and others may just be there for a short season, but both are poignant pieces of my life. I am who I am today because of all the friends I have had and still have...and I'm thankful for each one.

Grace

I'm just learning about grace. It's not something I excel at...giving or receiving.

I keep an old email in my inbox...a conversation I had with a writing professor in 1999. (Yes. 1999.)

I missed class in the fall of my senior year, which marked the first time I'd ever missed class for any reason in four years of college. In a panic, I wrote to the professor: I want to apologize for missing class today. In four years of college, I have never missed any class for any reason. Today was a first for me. I did not intend to miss, but I had a kind of personal problem that I had to take care of at that time. I'm sorry for missing, and I wanted to explain that I wasn't just taking a nap or something. I talked to Deanna, and I'll get the handout from her. If there's anything else I need to do to make up my absence, I'll be happy to do it. I promise this won't happen again.

The professor had a pretty strict attendance policy, so I waited somewhat uncomfortably for her response. It came a short time later:  You're entitled. Don't think anything about it. We missed you.

What is this?

It's grace.

That was 1999. It is now 2012 and I still struggle to get the grace thing. I get rules. I don't get grace.

This past Saturday, Ryan and I planned to work around my house, getting the yard whipped into shape (his project) and the house whipped into shape (my project) so we won't come back to a big mess after our honeymoon. And we had a service guy coming to the house for an installation.

He was scheduled to come between 8-12 and showed up a little more between 1 and 2. Right when Ryan and I had settled in to eat lunch. I continued scarfing chicken and veggies while Ryan went outside to meet him and give him the unofficial tour. Of course there were a few things he didn't know, so now and then I dashed outside in my socks and hobbled over rocks to deliver information, all the while inwardly grumbling that my house "nesting" project was interrupted.

As I eagerly dove into cabinet reorganization, Ryan popped in the back door, gave me one of those gorgeous smiles and said, "Hey I have to go under the house. The guy can't fit under there. I'll be back."

I snatched wrapping from around the gifts I was unpacking while not-so-silently grumbling that the man should be able to do his job by himself, not with the help of the homeowner.

As I happily stacked my newly stocked containers in the cabinet, I heard the two of them laughing and exchanging conversation in the backyard. I glanced out the window to see Ryan leaning on the rake talking with the guy who was standing in the middle of the leaf disaster.

The Martha in me overtook the Mary and I grumbled about waning daylight hours and how much work Ryan planned to get done and how it would bother him if it didn't get done...

I looked up from my organizing on the kitchen floor to see Ryan's face peeking in the back door again. "Hey do we have any coffee? He could use some. It's a little cold out here." I rolled my eyes in the direction of the coffee pot. There was about a cup left.

I tried to have a good attitude about it as I made a fresh pot and went back to my organizing. At last, Ryan came in and I thought everything was about done...but apparently not. Apparently they'd moved to the indoor portion of the festivities. I looked at the leaf-covered backyard, with the rake abandoned and became (in my opinion) righteously indignant. I pushed the last of my nesting aside and rather noisily donned my hoodie. Trying to even my tone, I said, "Honey were were planning to mulch or bag the leaves?" He said, "Oh we can bag them later."

Probably in not nearly as nice a tone as I intended, I pointed at the imaginary watch on my left wrist and said, "Well we don't have a lot of daylight left. I'll go rake."

And y'all, I punished the HOOEY out of that yard, angrily raking leaves into enormous piles and shoving them deep into leaf bags. All the while, hot tears rolled down my face and I caught short, sharp breaths between my silent sobs. This was not fair. I was not supposed to be out here doing yard work by myself while Ryan helped the service guy do his own job.

Oh Bekah.

Grace. Grace.

After he left (which probably wisely took place after I departed to shop for more leaf bags), I handed Ryan a Coke and a Reese peanut butter tree (my meager attempt at a peace offering) and dissolved into tears in his arms. And that wonderful man, without one single ounce of condemnation in his eyes or voice, gently wiped away my tears and explained that the man had a very long day, and had another job yet to go to after leaving us. That crawling under the house had been Ryan's offering. That the coffee was just a nice gesture he was happy to give.

Grace.

I need to learn it. And I'm so glad to walk through life with a man who gets it.

Lesson in Grace

I shared this story on the air last Friday, so if you were listening, I guess that makes this a repeat. So sorry!

Friday, Lynne and I did a Father's Day open phones show, so listeners could call in and honor their dads on the air. Love hearing their stories!! (And some of them made me cry!) Lynne asked me to share a story about my Dad, and this is the one I picked. I thought I'd share it here in honor of Father's Day yesterday.

(And yes, I'm about to sound VERY OLD here. But I'm not. No, really!)

Okay, so remember these??

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Well, back in the day, I had one. And I was no different from the tweens/teens of today in that this thing was ALWAYS attached to me. (Well, I guess the one difference was that I didn't wear it out in public. But at home, it was always on. ALWAYS.) I was rockin' OUT to Sandi Patty and Steve Green.

So this one particular day, I had the Walkman clipped to my belt, and I was wildly displeased about something I'd been asked to do. (Imagine that. A wildly displeased teenage girl.) I'd probably been asked to set the table or some other TERRIBLY inconvenient chore. How in the world my parents ever survived those years with me is truly beyond me and mine.

I brisked, in a huff, through the house, still plugged in, and as I made my way from the hallway into the kitchen, not observing the speed limit in any way, the headphone cord caught on the oven door handle. You know - that little edge that sticks out? Because of my pace, the Walkman snapped off my belt, fell to the floor and shattered into an irreparable number of pieces.

I'd gotten exactly what I deserved. It was the classic let-this-be-a-lesson-to-you-young-lady moment. You-just-live-without-your-music-until-you-save-up-your-babysitting-money-and-buy-a-new-Walkman teachable event. I mean really. They couldn't have PLANNED a life lesson any better. And I knew it.

And the next day when I came home from school, there was a Wal-Mart bag on my bed. Inside? A new Walkman. My Dad had made a special trip to town (we lived in the country, so there was no such thing as "running to the store real quick" in our world) and purchased a new Walkman for me.

This is the man who didn't so much care for my choice in music. This is the man who probably didn't care to have his kid disconnect from life in favor of being plugged in to said music. And this is the man whose kid deserved to be without for a while.

And yet he made a special trip to buy a Walkman for a bratty tweenager who did a stupid thing.

Grace.

For a long, LONG time, I kept that broken Walkman on the shelf of my closet, to remind me to SLOW DOWN - and to remind me that sometimes, we DON'T get what we deserve.

And it's all grace.