the intersection of life and grace

My grandfather served in the Army Corps of Engineers during WWII. He wanted to serve, enlisting at age 32 before the United States was attacked at Pearl Harbor and was drawn into the war. His unit served under the auspices of the British 14th Army, under the command of General (Lord) Slim, and labored to build the gasoline pipeline that accompanied the construction of the Stilwell Road. The China-Burma-India theater of the war is probably the least known, its battles and soldiers untold in more than a passing fashion in history books – yet they are part of how I grew up to understand the conflict, and my grandfather.

It is not uncommon that his experience profoundly influenced him, or that his stories, his army friends, and his outlook influenced me. My grandmother, because of severe rheumatoid arthritis and parkinson’s disease, was unable to travel; when I became a teenager, my grandfather took me to many gatherings of the CBI Veteran’s Association and, closest to his heart, the Burma Star Association whose gatherings I attended frequently enough with him that I was awarded “Friend of the Burma Star” status. I was fascinated by the place in history these people occupied, largely unnoticed. My exposure to these men and women led to my discovery of the Kohima Epitaph, a few words of which ring in my head and heart every time I see a flag-draped coffin or read of a soldier lost in defense of freedom:

I’ve had a habit for a couple of years now (honestly, it’s more of a discipline) of praying over my calendar on Friday for the coming week. It was originally intended to help me keep my activities in the right perspective by offering them to God, which it has certainly done.

As I became more disciplined with ‘calendar prayer’ I became (duh!) familiar with how well-spent (or not) my days were. However, there have been some ‘unintended-by-me’ fruits from this practice, the most important of which is I’ve said ‘no’ to things more, which has made room for the opportunities and people God has placed in my path. Initially, saying no was uncomfortable because I’d already said yes; this resulted in my praying over items before putting them on my calendar at all. I’ve even started praying about when to schedule doctor’s appointments before I even get to the doctor’s office. Recently this was revealed a worthy practice when I fell ill with an infection the night before a previously scheduled doctor’s appointment.

It isn’t always so obvious, but it is clear to me that God does honor the practice of surrendering all of my time to His Lordship. You might say, of course he does… or you might say wow… or both. It was a real revelation to me, and a place where I gained more faith in God’s control and lost some in my own. That’s a good, or should I say, God thing.

But I trust in thee, O LORD, I say, “Thou art my God.” My times are in thy hand…
–Psalm 31:14, 15

“The whole world is not a conspiracy to make you unhappy.”

It seems like I’ve had to say that more than a few times since last April. That’s when my baby girl turned 13 and her whole worldview seemed to shift overnight.

Most recently I said it to her this morning as she was quite dramatically going about getting ready for school and absolutely ranting about the weather, her brother, the choices available for her lunch… pretty much anything she encountered wasn’t right and was the way it was just to knock her off balance (at least in her estimation from the center of the universe). Nothing is “fair” to her… no one “understands” her… and her new (and most hurtful) outburst – you say you understand me, mom, but you don’t – is her latest version of the pre-adolescent ‘I hate you.’

In spite of her harsh words, she is quite understood. When you’re 13 in this world, it really could seem like it’s all a conspiracy… like it’s all unsteady and unsafe and scary. It really is unsteady, unsafe and scary out there – it would be hard to miss that reality as it swirls around her in the form of the ever-difficult middle school friendships, in violence locally and globally, clashing worldviews on everything from the surface (what to wear) to the heart (what to believe), not to mention her struggle to just grow up and become who she was created to be. Goodness, I’ve had lots of practice struggling with the very same stuff!

It’s important for us both that I be the calm in the storm that rages around her. In know how important it is by its absence in my own young life… it was hard to go it alone. So many of my own mistakes came from trying to gauge the danger of the path reletive to the neighboring path, having no guidence from beside me or inside me through some physically and spiritually dangerous places. I have those healed wounds to remind me, just in case I would ever forget, that God has put me beside her. She knows Him, and my most important spiritual responsibility is to help her discern His voice… the one who truthfully speaks peace in the midst of the storm… the one who keeps our feet on the right path as we acknowlege his leadership with our ways… the one whose peril rescues us from death by showing us how love covers a multitude of sins.

I pray hard for my (not-so-baby) girl. My prayer for her is that she learns what voice to trust and what voices to question; that she learns from Whom to seek approval and whose approval is based in other motives; that she learns to appreciate the good in herself and others. Above all, I pray that home is the place where Jesus speaks “peace be with you” to her heart so that she’s stronger and more grace-filled out there in the unsteady, unsafe and scary world.

I’ve wanted to blog for a very long time. Frankly, I think I was afraid of the commitment my long-planned (and thankfully-available) title supposes; afraid of living up to truly looking for grace in everyone and everything, in every situation. But, it is an essential part of being who I say I am – a disciple of Jesus Christ – to live life sacramentally, as an outward and visible sign of the inward and spiritual grace I’ve received.

I have to confess, I’m still quite mortal… just in case anyone might have wondered. I struggle with perfectionism (note the aforementioned fears) so much so that a friend recently said that it seems like I’m competing with myself sometimes. Ouch… pretty close to the mark.

Living sacramentally… it means that I don’t have to be perfect or afraid so long as I keep seeking and living out God’s grace. So, that’s what it looks like from here…