Rhythms of Grace

Ethan’s first word was da-da I think.  His second word was tractor and he hasn’t turned back since.

My son loves farming.  Some kids love ice cream, soccer, or Power Rangers, but this is an entirely different kind of love.  This is the “I will break the rules, push the limits, lose sleep and miss meals if I have to in order to ride in farm equipment” kind of love.  Eleven years into this love affair it continues to grow and deepen.  We thought it was a cute toddler phase that would pass, but it didn’t.  Instead, he became more and more interested and obsessed with every aspect of it.  Eventually we accepted that this is just simply a large part of who he is.  Thankfully, over the years he has developed a few other interests too, but I emphasize a FEW – and he would happily let any one of them fall to the way side if it meant a chance to pursue his one true love.

We’re blessed to have two great farmer neighbors.  They are a couple of the very rare old school independent farmers left around.  One of them in particular has taken a liking to Ethan.  This man works for and by himself.  He isn’t the most joyful or optimistic sort of guy – but he loves our son.  Obviously he can appreciate Ethan’s authentic and desperate love for the same thing that has been his life’s work too.  It’s become the expectation over the years that if he’s working in the fields around our house he will stop by & take Ethan with him – often times without even telling us.  They will stay in the fields for hours on end and still it’s never enough.  Yesterday was one of these days.  Harvest season has begun and so off Ethan went down the rode on his bike to hitch a ride.  When he came home nearly four hours later his eyes were big and bright and he couldn’t quit talking.  It seems that he wasn’t merely a passenger this time.  This time he drove.  Seriously.  Farmer switched places with him and let my eleven year old operate a combine worth more than our house.

There is something incredibly satisfying about seeing your child genuinely happy.  Last night he was exuding joy.  I keep telling myself to remember this moment because I think it’s really, really important.  You see, farming isn’t the most lucrative career path these days, especially in this county.  I find myself reminding him of this often and encouraging him to explore other options that will guarantee him a better salary, security and future.  And then I see the light in his eye last night and hear his excitement and realize that I’m doing everything in my power to change who he naturally is because it doesn’t fit the world’s standards.  How screwed up is that?  I should be giving him every opportunity I can to pursue his passion – no matter the salary.  Life is about so much more than money and retirement plans and four bedroom houses with picket fences.  He is one of the lucky ones to know with such certainty what he truly loves to do and I hope that he’ll be able to do it and keep those big bright eyes long into his adult years.

I envy Ethan.  He understands what it feels like to know who God made him to be and what He made him to do and he lets no one talk him out of that.  Maybe it’s childhood idealism – or maybe the world’s lies just haven’t had a chance to capture him yet.  I’m banking on the latter and I’m praying that I can help him to hold his ground.

“But a time is coming, and has come, when you will be scattered, each to his own home.  You will leave me all alone.  Yet I am not alone, for my Father is with me.  I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace.  In this world you will have trouble.  But take heart!  I have overcome the world.”  John 16: 32-33

I ran across this familiar passage yesterday.  I’ve gone there before and was struck by the part about peace.  It’s a comforting verse.  But yesterday something else jumped out at me.

Jesus is speaking to his disciples here – the very ones who have been closest to him his entire adult life.  The ones who have eaten with him, traveled with him, laughed & cried with him.  His CHOSEN ones.  He knows that he’s about to be killed.  He’s trying to prepare them for that.  But he knows something else – he knows they’re going to fail him.  They are going to doubt him, hide from him and even deny knowing him.  They’re going to argue amongst themselves about who he likes more, and who has the best plan once he’s not right in the middle of them anymore.

All my life I’ve had this fear of failure.  I push myself to not only succeed but to excel at everything I do.  Of course I rarely accomplish this and therefore feel like a failure in my own mind much of the time.  I’ve always had this notion that if I mess something up, do a bad job or make a wrong decision that I’m letting God down.  I guess I have this picture of Jesus in my head – sitting wherever it is that He sits just shaking His head in disappointment and saying “there she goes again…”  My nightly prayer as a child began “Lord forgive me for all the stuff I did wrong today.  I’ll try to do better tomorrow…”  I suppose I went to sleep every night feeling like I had a lot of ground to make up the next day.

But this is a new picture of Jesus.  Jesus wasn’t angry when he said this.  He wasn’t judging them either.  He was simply acknowledging the fact that he knew they were going to screw up.  He knew they would fail.  And he didn’t follow it up with “so you’re just going to have to try harder because until you’ve proven to me that you can make it through a whole day without sinning you are on your own.”  No.  That’s not what He said at all.  HE said “I have told you these things, so that you may have peace.  In this world you will have trouble.  But take heart!  I have overcome the world.”  And then – to drive His point home – He followed through with the crucifixion and resurrection – and…He overcame the world.

How is it that as believers we can at times doubt Him, try to hide from Him and even deny Him?  Why do we argue amongst ourselves about who He likes more and who has the better plan?  These things drive me crazy – especially when I’m taking part in them.  I often feel like Jesus is shaking His head in disappointment at His Church.  But He expected this didn’t He?  He knew we would fail.  And as early as the book of Acts it starts to happen and continues to this day.  I love what the footnote to this verse says in my Bible.  It says “Jesus knew His Church is not built on people’s strength but on God’s ability to use people even after they have failed.”

I’ve taught classes on grace but somehow I still don’t fully comprehend it myself.  I believe that the Church needs to do better.  We need to love each other more and extend grace to one another in the same way it’s been lavished on us.  We need to know when to agree to disagree and move forward.  We need to look to  the needs of others we are serving and become less consumed with our own.  And when we fail – like we are sure to do – we need to remember that the Church is not built on our strength, but rather on God’s ability to use failures such as we are.  God doesn’t like to see us fail – but He isn’t surprised by it either.  He loves to use the weak to lead the strong.  He loves to display His glory through the most unworthy.  Maybe it’s time for the Church to stop arguing about who’s right and to instead accept the fact that none of us totally are.  Instead of bickering over which of us caused our problems – maybe it’s time to start allowing God to work through them.

In the very next chapter Jesus gives believers the responsibility of showing Him to the world – through our unity.  He promises to help us when He prays to God: “I have made you known to them, and will continue to make you known in order that the love you have for me may be in them and that I myself may be in them.”  John 17:26

The love God has for Jesus is in us.  Jesus is in us.  Wow.  I pray that this will be the generation that begins to live within that reality and that because of God’s grace and love in and through us the world will know Him too.

Fall is my most favorite time of the year.  There are numerous reasons for this.  I’m a natural brunette and therefore look best in earth tones.  I prefer organic colors in my home too, so the autumn prints always accent well.  Fall brings the season premieres of all my favorite TV shows – not to mention the kickoff of Colts football season (and I emphasize Colts because none other really interests me).  Fall means the return to school and routine and learning.  Even now – 20+ years removed from school – I’m still inspired to start reading when the temperatures start to fall.  I met John in the Fall and the sights, smells & tastes of it always take me back to that time.  I love it so much that I determined to have an Autumn wedding which, in hindsight, wasn’t such a brilliant idea given the fact that I married a deer hunter.

A few years ago I had a friendly debate with a friend concerning her disdain for the season and my crazy love of it.  I’m certain I won that debate of course, and it even inspired me to write an article for the church newsletter.  That article is long gone, but it probably wouldn’t fully capture my thoughts anymore anyway.  This year the leaves falling to the ground, the dying grass, and the approach of harvest season have taken on a new significance.  Always a time that represented change in the most vivid way – this year it does more so as I can almost see myself in the green leaf as it withers into a golden brown.  I’m another year older and approaching the age when birthdays start to matter.  I can feel the effects of every one of them now.  I remember the friendly debate.  My friend loved spring because it “represented new life”.  I pointed out that Fall does too, it just isn’t as literal.  You have to dig a little deeper to see it.  New life can’t happen without significant change on the part of something.  Think about that…

But in what seems like this perpetual Autumn of my life – one that has spanned over a year now – I’m finding it necessary to remind myself that I love it.  I know it’s got newness right on its heels but I sometimes find myself unable to see past the death and instead longing as my friend did for “new life”.  Am I getting too lazy to dig deeper myself?  I hope not.  I remembered an old Nichole Nordeman song today called Seasons. She pretty much sums it up better than I ever could, so here are the lyrics.  Enjoy…

Every evening sky, an invitation
To trace the patterned stars
And early in July, a celebration
For freedom that is ours
And I notice You
In children’s games
In those who watch them from the shade
Every drop of sun is full of fun and wonder
You are summer

And even when the trees have just surrendered
To the harvest time
Forfeiting their leaves in late September
And sending us inside
Still I notice You when change begins
And I am braced for colder winds
I will offer thanks for what has been and is to come
You are autumn

And everything in time and under heaven
Finally falls asleep
Wrapped in blankets white, all creation
Shivers underneath
And still I notice you
When branches crack
And in my breath on frosted glass
Even now in death, You open doors for life to enter
You are winter

And everything that’s new has bravely surfaced
Teaching us to breathe
What was frozen through is newly purposed
Turning all things green
So it is with You
And how You make me new
With every season’s change
And so it will be
As You are re-creating me
Summer, autumn, winter, spring