What Does Grace Feel Like?

The question was posed as part of a challenge to extend it to others, and so the speaker asked us to consider this question.
What does grace feel like?

-Like being with someone whom you feel completely loved and accepted by; you feel safe. In the same instant that you realize you are intimately known, you also rest secure as you are immeasurably treasured.

Ahh, the intimacy of grace. The grand abandonment of pretension or hesitancy. The wonder of acceptance and security and belonging.

This is the reality of our relationship with God.
He does not look on us with furrowed brow, scrutinizing today’s worthiness of our life. He does not tally our sins nor our goodness,  as if to add to some grand ledger which determines our merit in his eyes.
In the laughter of his affection, in the tenderness of his love, he invites us to come near. He welcomes us with a knowing smile, seeing the likeness of Himself that is still in raw form. His warmth and gentleness inspires our affection; our affection spawns new and greater growth and conformity to His will.  And the special hiding place of fellowship with him is a respite from life in a broken world.

What does grace feel like?
-It is words of forgiveness and healing, spoken in quiet, firm assurance that chases away our fear of getting what we know we deserve. It is affirmation instead of accusation. It is covenant instead of condemnation.  And it produces in me courage, inspiration, and a passion to live and love as God desires.
This grace doesn’t deny reality; it defies reality. For I know what I deserve is so different than what God gives me. Yet this is what makes it grace.

And so, God, I cry out in gratitude and longing—how can I articulate my joy and thanksgiving? When I know so well the depravity of my heart and the neediness of my soul, you whisper your encouragement of sweet acceptance and assurance!

Grace.

 It feels amazing!

Bitter...or Better?

“Be bitter or get better.”

These were the words that kept haunting me after she shared the testimony.
(I wonder if she realized how the words would be used by God?!)
I could allow my heart to harden (a very natural, easy process I knew) or I could resist.
I could reject this poisoned thinking my heart so readily would embrace.
In God’s grace, I knew this was a battle for my heart, of my affection for and trust in God.

Oh, the temptation was so appealing!
I didn’t think “it” fair. I knew I’d been wronged. I believed I had an airtight case that any jury would rule in my favor (in this hypothetical court of rights & wrongs).
And I was so hurt by it all. The misery was intense.
I had a ‘right’ to nurse my offense.

“Be bitter or get better.”

I also knew the high price of unforgiveness. The awful, ravaging effects of not letting go, of not giving to God all my ‘rights’. Of refusing to trust Him in this.
I’d seen in others the chains of bondage that bitterness produces.
The infiltrating impact it brings to all of one’s life if allowed to take root.
The unhappiness, the toll it makes its possessor pay, the thief of joy it is.
And how it blinds its prisoner to the cruelty of its containment, for release is the key held in his own hand, unused: forgiveness!

“Be bitter or get better.”

“Oh, God”, I cry, “I want to get better.”
To rest in fellowship with you, to let go of my hurt and another’s transgression.
But it seems insurmountable. I need your help.
I need your grace, your Spirit’s power, your balm for my hurting soul.
Help me take the first step and proceed forward.
To get better.

I may not understand. I may not see ‘justice’. I may not be able to right the wrong.
But you do. You can. You will.
Restore to me a soft heart of openness.
I will trust in You.
...And get “better”.