On the Steps of 247

She sat all alone on the steps of 247, with earbuds in to keep the world out. Her face was expressionless, her body motionless, her eyes fixated on something far beyond the student center across the street. 

She barely turned when my friend Katelyn and I sat down to strike up a conversation.

"Can we ask you a few questions?" 

She raised her eyebrows. 

In Setswana, that's a half-hearted yes.

We chatted a bit about Tswana culture and traditions and university life before the conversation turned to spiritual matters. 

"What makes someone a Christian?" I asked, searching her face. 

For the first time she met my gaze. "Keeping the law, I guess. Not breaking any of the Ten Commandments."

"Do you know anyone who has done that? Is there anyone who has perfectly kept the Ten Commandments?" Katelyn gently prodded.

An icy blast of air conditioning gave momentary relief from the suffocating heat as the doors of the building behind us opened to let out a crowd of students. She shifted away slightly as she thought about the question. 

"Yes," she finally answered.

I'm sure I did not hide my surprise. "Who? Who do you know that has never sinned?"

"The people at my church. There are men and women-- they say they've kept the whole law. And I… well, I've tried but I'm not perfect like them."

We shared with her that despite what her fellow church members might claim, "no one will be declared righteous in [God's] sight by observing the law; rather, through the law we become conscious of sin." (Romans 3:20) The good news is that being right with God doesn't depend on our keeping the law (vs 21-22).

Grace.

That's what her name meant in Setswana. 

And it's the answer to the questions she kept bottled inside. 

This conversation took place over eight months ago while I was still in Botswana. Something I read today in Acts brought it back to my memory…  "through [Jesus] forgiveness of sins is proclaimed to you, and by him everyone who believes is freed from everything from which you could not be freed from by the law of Moses." (Acts 13:38b-39)

We are freed from everything the law fails to free us from. 

That is good news for me, a doer. 

And that is good news for Grace, a seeker. 

I don't know what happened to her; we shared the gospel with her a couple more times in the following weeks but never saw her make a decision. I pray that she discovered the Ultimate Grace. 

My Most Ironic Resolution

Every December 27th or so, when Christmas carols fade from the radio waves, I find myself enticed by a different siren-song, try as I might to escape it: The New Year's Resolution. Recently there seems to be a lot of backlash against making resolutions, but personally I accept the challenge with all the zeal of Jonathan Edwards. (If it is true he had 70 resolutions he reviewed and evaluated himself on every week, that must prove we're related.)

In addition, the past few years I've asked the Lord to give me a theme for year. 2012: Choose Joy, and 2013: Love Without Reserve.

Oh, it sounds cute, until my discovery that my "theme" is something that will be particularly difficult for me with the circumstances the year will hold. He's so clever the way he does that.

Choosing joy was not my first instinct as a new new nurse, driving to my third night shift in a row, bawling my eyes out because I knew which patients were waiting there for me. And loving without reserve did not seem very practical when I was living out of a suitcase in a foreign country where I was only supposed to stay for 10 weeks.

But oh, the things I resisted were the things I needed so desperately.

2014 is no exception.

This year I found myself presenting my 47ish-point list of resolutions to the Lord, and he gave me a theme for 2014: Strivings Cease.

But Lord, you don't understand... that kind of clashes with all my resolutions.  Here, I have a better one: "Try harder, try harder, try harder." How about that?

But he was unrelentingly, unmistakably writing those words on my heart.

Strivings Cease.

Through verses, through songs, through wise counsel, through the very breath of His Spirit.

"God will speak to this people, to whom he said,

'This is the resting place, let the weary rest,' and

'This is the place of repose'--

but they would not listen.

So then, the word of the Lord to them will become:

Do and do, do and do

Rule on rule, rule on rule

A little here, a little there-- 

So that they will go and fall backward …" 

(Isaiah 28:11b-13)

Those verses are unsettlingly descriptive of my life at times. I can become so consumed with trying to serve God better, that all joy is lost and I forget the reason I'm doing it in the first place. Please tell me I'm not the only one who has been there.

Growing up, well-intentioned church people used to tell me: "we can't earn our salvation, but we should live as if we're trying to."

So I did.

Do and do.

Rule on rule.

And there was never rest.

Now I am convinced that there is nothing further from the truth. In fact, Galatians confirms it by saying "Are you so foolish? Having begun by the Spirit, are you now being perfected by the flesh?"(3:3)

Rather, when we readily recognize our shortcomings and utter hopelessness apart from Christ, the covering of his righteousness becomes infinitely more precious. It does away with the guilt and striving and disappointment that crop up in the wake of my failed resolutions. The mark of legalism is restless striving. The fruit of love is joyful service.

So what happened to my resolutions, the infinite list of do-more's and try-harder's? They are still tucked away somewhere. It doesn't mean I won't make an effort to be more faithful in certain areas. 

It means that in 2014, I will be compelled not by the strivings of guilt, but by the sufficiency of grace.

I Am Satisfied

I can remember a favorite game I used to play with my sister and cousin when we were kids and ate at restaurants together on Sundays. We would look for comment cards or surveys to fill out, rating the quality of service… you know, excellent/ good/ satisfactory/ poor/ very poor. Now I was quite the devious child and convinced my sister and cousin that if we rated the restaurant at satisfactory or below, and then added in the comment section, "all kids meals should come with a free cookie" then next time they would add a cookie to our meal to appease us. Obviously.
Well I can't say we revolutionized any kids menus, but the experience left this idea imprinted on my young mind: satisfied means "room for improvement."
...

Zambians love this phrase. It's the kind of thing you say when someone feeds you a wonderful meal and you can't hold another bite. I am satisfied. It perplexed me for the longest time! Isn't that an insult to the cook? "Satisfied"? A 3 out of 5?
But as I've come to find out, the way Zambians understand satisfaction is much more on target with the Biblical concept of satisfaction:
Filled to the brim.
Having abundance.
Replenished.
Lacking nothing.
The Bible never uses the word "satisfied" to express mediocrity-- a 3 on the Likert scale or something middle-of-the-road.

"For he SATISFIES the longing soul, and the hungry soul he FILLS with good things." (Psalm 107:9)
This promise is pretty dull and lifeless if we understand satisfaction to be merely a contented step up from "poor." Good enough, but with room for improvement. 
Here I have truly begun to see how perfectly, abundantly satisfying he is. Only by being so emptied of the things I once prized have I seen the capacity of His Spirit to fill and satisfy every part of my life. 
"I am satisfied." 

I didn't ask for this but...

Reaching my hand into my wallet is a reminder of what 2013 has been like: you never know what you're going to pull out. Dollars, rand, pula, kwatcha, euro. Happy reminders, sad reminders. Fascination and frustration. 
Three dollars for goodbye coffee date with a friend at Starbucks.
Seven pula for combi fare to Old Naledi Baptist Church.
Forty rand for a breathtaking drive to the very southern-most tip of Africa.
Twelve kwatcha for the mandatory squash needed to host a girls night with CBU students.
Fifteen euro for the chance to walk inside a monument of persecution and pray for the advance of the gospel.
Beyond the goodbyes to friends in the states, I did not foresee any of these destinations or experiences.

Like pulling out kwatcha to try to pay for gelato, sometimes I think, that's not what I was looking for.
But isn't it beautiful that God knows better than we do? If I had only gotten what I was looking for in 2013, I would have seriously limited Him. Good thing he is more powerful than that.

Serving a God who is able to do abundantly more than all we can ask or imagine: Priceless.