A Presence of Grace
Hello, if this is your first time reading the blog, first of all, welcome!
Second, I would recommend going back to the beginning. What I share, builds on the previous posts. They will make more sense when read sequentially.
The Cabin
Sitting on the porch steps, I cuddle up inside a warm blanket with a coffee in hand. Watching the rain fall to the ground in puddles, the overhang protects me from the weather. To my right is the lake, with towering mountains capped with snow which sit right at the edge of the water. The thick smell of pine fills the air, mixed with a damp mixture of rain and foliage. The cabin is surrounded by trees, giving a sense of safety, protection and seclusion.
Sometimes, I won’t invite Jesus there at first as I enter into prayer. Initially, I sit, listening to rain music, allowing the Holy Spirit to invite me into the space. Then, once I’m settled, I ask Jesus where he is. He rounds the corner to my right this day, wearing a bright, long rain jacket, holding firewood. He grins at me, a closed-mouth, sweet smile, the one he shows whenever we first meet. Taking off his coat, grabbing a coffee from the table, he sits down next to me. He wears jeans, a sweater and cozy knit socks. Sitting down, he positions himself close enough to me that his shoulders touch mine. He sighs as he feels the weight on my heart.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks.
I always want to talk about it. Today I want to say sorry; I want to not struggle with the continual sin I feel, habits I wish could be broken and changed. Am I not doing something? What do I need to do? How do I need to change? Feeling that familiar frustration growing, I tell Him how hopeless I feel. How often I feel like a lost cause, I’m the exception. Today, I didn’t even want to enter into prayer because I knew I’d have to address these feelings of regret and hopelessness. All the while, I look down at my coffee, not having the courage to look at his face. What if he’s disappointed in me? He must be mad, at least a little.
His hand slowly comes, touching my right knee. He squeezes it only a little, prompting me to look at him finally. His eyes glisten with a half-smile on his face as he shrugs. Words are not spoken, but heaven downloads a little more perspective as I stare into his eyes. Jesus doesn’t see my failings now; he’s too focused forward on how I will be in eternity. This habit/choice I’ve made is nothing compared to forever with Him.
I try to protest. “But you’ve told me to obey, follow you, live for you NOW.”
Shaking his head again, he laughs a little. “Oh, child. You’re ok, don’t worry so much.” Grace sits in the air, removing the heaviness I had felt just a moment before.
*Often, the Holy Spirit prompts me to become like a child again in my imagination. Generally, I end up being around five years old. In this space, I can start as adult Breanna talking to Jesus; then, in a moment, I’m five years old. This is usually when I feel shaky, unsure or discouraged.
Pulling me onto his lap, I am a child again, sitting sideways, hugging his chest. Hearing the beating of his heart, I smoosh my face into his sweater. “But Jesus,” I say, “I am sorry.” With his arms wrapped around me, he squeezes me into a hug that lasts for a long time. Sitting on the porch, listening to the rain, I let his acceptance seep into my soul. Slowly, it replaces the condemnation I’ve previously held. Replaying Jesus’ smile and shrug in my mind, I can’t help but be challenged in my perception of God’s grace. We never surprise him with our sins or shortcomings. He’s never the parent who wags his finger or shakes his head, saying, “You should have listened!”
No, he meets us with a smile and a shrug, a point toward eternity and a hug (or whatever way you feel love).
Please feel welcome to share if you try imaginative prayer. What is working and what is challenging? I would love to hear about your experiences and the way the Spirit moves.
I am SO thankful we share such an intimate, close Father.
