Freedom in Spring

          For years, I have approached my life as if I am on trial. I organize my evidence with a logical bent, analyzing whether I am guilty or not in a particular situation, and what I am going to do to either stay on that path or make amends. From last October to mid-March of this year, I did this about something specific from my past and present, ruthlessly seeking the truth about myself and going through my evidence and arguments ad nauseam. Through this time, I experienced God’s grace in a powerful way, recognizing that no matter what the conclusion was, the verdict was the same: not guilty. If my debt is truly erased and God sees me through the lens of Christ’s righteousness and not my own attempted merit, then no matter what I determine about my past or present, my future is the same. Nothing that I struggle with is ever going to change God’s love for me or revoke His forgiveness, because in the cross, it truly is finished.

          Even though I still pursued a deeper understanding of myself, I did not pin my hopes on what I would find. This freed me to dispassionately analyze sin, dysfunction, and extenuating circumstances, because my identity was not dependent on any related conclusion. I let grace have the final word and accepted God’s love without disclaimers, caveats, or attempts at self-vindication. When a close friend of mine came home from her two-month trip overseas, I had an opportunity to update her on my life and tell her about the internal experiences I had henceforth kept to myself. I trusted her to respond well, because she is one of the most gracious and giving people I know, but I was amazed by how unreservedly and unquestioningly she expressed grace and compassion.

          When grace appears, my carefully constructed ideas fall apart. I feel safe with cause and effect consequences, because I believe that they are just, but grace stares messed up, weird, slightly disturbing people in the face and says, as my friend said to me, “I don't see you any differently because of that.” Our society expects us to spend exorbitant amounts of money, time, and effort to fix or conceal our flaws, but at the same time, people think it is vogue, brave, and laudable to put out your dirty laundry for everyone to see and admire. Love and grace strike the balance. You are accepted not because you look perfect or because you're adequately vocal about your problems, but because someone sees past your front and values you for who you are.

          That encounter with my friend changed me. Sometimes you need to hold things back, because not everyone needs to know everything about you, but I chose to share hidden parts of myself with one of the people I love most, and I received more grace, love, and understanding than I was ever willing to show myself. This real, tangible experience with grace altered my paradigm and sense of what is normal or right. I learned how to show more grace than I thought was fair or reasonable, starting literally the very next day. My friend imitated Christ and showed me how much I needed to do the same.

          On the way to her house, I had been listening to Nothing is Sound, a favorite Switchfoot CD. Before I even knew that I would have a chance to share what I had been going through, I was singing along with "Golden," reflecting on how much joy this friendship has brought me and how grateful I am that despite my self-loathing and depression of former years, I really have come through stronger and can accept unconditional love. When I left her house afterwards, I turned the music back on, singing along as I drove out of the neighborhood with my windows down.

          “The Earth spins and the moon goes round
          The green comes from the frozen ground
          And everything will be made new again
          Like freedom in spring.”

          Every time I hear this song, it takes me back to that night and to the incredible peace of sharing my burdens and having someone love me so much more than I deserve. In all the presentations I heard throughout my life about accepting grace, the emphasis was usually that once you understood how bad you were, you would see why you needed grace and would be eager to accept it. In my experience, the more dreadful I appeared, the more grace seemed unfair and unlikely. But, as the first Relient K song I ever knew says, "The beauty of grace is that it makes life unfair."

          I have come back to that over and over again this year, understanding it in a new and deeper way. Grace and love are real, and they do not correspond in measure to how cleaned up and satisfactory my life and thoughts are. Nor is forgiveness dependent on how guilty I feel or how much I think I need it. Mercy, grace, love, and forgiveness are gifts that arise from outside of myself, and when I stop obsessing over my problems and am willing to accept them, the whole world looks different. Heart change flowed not from a moment of insight, but from finding myself wrapped in a love beyond reason.