3am

Sometimes I just don't have time to write all my reflective thoughts down.

(Pardon me while I step out to laugh... all my reflective thoughts... haha... snort)

Ok. All kidding aside.

Naturally, for Christians, those who profess Jesus Christ as their Savior, the one who died for their forgiveness of sins, their salvation, this is a good time for reflection. I didn't take the last 40 days like many do to spend thinking, fasting, praying about His sacrifice. I didn't give up cookies, or caffeine, or tv. While I probably need to give up sweets and the like, I don't necessarily feel like I cheated myself, or God, of my time or devotion. Not that it wouldn't be fruitful for me to do that "sacrifice", but I do it in some way, all year long.

A song in church, a scripture, witnessing undeserved forgiveness from one person to another, the gente touch on the shoulder of a hurting soul, the dawn of a new day, the sweet love of my children lavished on a selfish, crabby mother; all these things make me think about Him. And weep. And today, right now, I weep. Not because of sadness, but from being overwhelmed with His Love, what He did for me, and how I'm not worthy, but He did it anyway. The mercy, grace, forgiveness, love, redemption all bestowed upon me. How can one truly grasp all that? How can you not grasp at it?

Songs like this... cause me to weep  e v e r y  time. They crack open my crappy, broken, hardheaded heart, as they reveal to me something awesome.

I don't claim to be perfect. I don't claim to know it all. I don't think I'm better than someone else for any reason I can think of. Saying you're a Christian is sometimes like pulling out a loaded gun - people get freaked and run away, because they have experienced the bullets of some other "christian". For that I'm sorry. I have plenty of "intellectual" friends, friends who scoff at my beliefs (probably behind my back), friends who don't "get it", friends who don't want to or could care less. (And I stand less boldly than I should for fear of their bullets.)

To those people, I just want to say, He's so much more than what you know. You may think it's a bunch of crap, and what you've experienced probaby is. But HE is not that. He lifts my face when I cannot. He forgives me when I am less than kind to someone who probably "deserved" it. He loves that person (me) who doesn't deserve it. And though I haven't experienced this much yet, He wants to be my friend, your friend, the one you share thoughts and dreams and struggles and joys with. He wants to hold my hand when I sit scared in the dentist chair, when I talk to my kids about _____, when I argue with my husband. He's not pushy, he nudges. He whispers, and maybe he shouts, but I only have heard or seen the "quiet shouts." To be cliche, He really is the potter, and I the clay, in that he takes is hands and smoothes out the pot, filling cracks and shoring up uneven spots, so gently you can't help but bend to his touch.

I read a book all day today. Total waste of time so now I'm up at nearly 3 am waiting for laundry. But I read this...

"Whenever I read a story... where the author has bravely chosen to create characters who are products of their culture and flawed by their natures, I think of the people Jesus chose to associate with... He sought out the broken people. Why, he accepted a tearful tribute from a prostiture and invited himself into the home of a tax collector, a profligate who stole from his own people and flaunted his weath. Jesus even ate in the company of lepers... and the woman at the well, a Samaritan, a term used by the Jews as a curse word... I've often wondered what that woman was like. After all, Jesus chose to walk through hostile territory to meet with her, and she'd rid herself of five husbands... But Jesus met her there (at the well, in the heat of the day), weary from meeting the needs of hungry and hurting people, and he must have been terribly thirsty... What I find so compelling about the story of the Samaritan woman is the grace Jesus extends to her when she speaks the truth. She admits her failings to him, a rabbi who had no business talking to any woman in public, let alone a hussy who lived with a man who was not her husband. He could have ordered her stoned for her sins, but Jesus didn't even gasp. He didn't give her a book to read or ask her to explain her past. No, he opened a door considered closed to the Samaritans - forgiveness - and she ran through it without a second thought. No other story in the Bible speaks more eloquently of Jesus' humility and grace." --The Queen of Sleepy Eye, Patti Hill.

Yeah. I was a hussy who did things you might gasp at, someone who stole things that weren't mine, who chased after selfish ambitions. In fact, I think I still do those things sometimes (well, maybe more figuratively as I don't steal on purpose, and I'm a faithfully married woman now, lol). I'm a work in progress, who loves an awesome God, and that's all he really wants of me.

I am my beloved's and he is mine.

If you are a friend who has felt the sting of Christians but want to know about Christ and what all the fuss is, please talk to me. I'm not out to "convert" you, I just want you to know about something that makes my life a little more manageable, gives me hope, takes the sting out, and makes me feel worthy when I'm not. Because I'd love for you to find life a little more manageable, have more hope, take the sting out of your ___, and make you feel loved and worthy.

Because you're worth it.