The Gift That Gets Us Through

Faith is something given, not achieved. It is created by God’s word in Christ. H.A Williams, via Madeline L’Engle, Walking On Water

The week ‘s wrung me out with the constant upset of a house filled with colds and sleepless nights for a chain of days on end. The schedule fell between the cracks as I watched the sun rise each morning, through bleary, heavy eyes and a heart weighted down with a rap sheet of mishaps and forgotten chores. Laundry threatens to swallow me right up, and the dog stinks and needs a good clipping.

In my frustration over a long week where every moment turned opposite of the way I willed it to, I find I’ve stuffed God into a box, determining for myself how He will answer my prayers–or not. 

I wonder sometimes in these bleak seasons of business tangled with sickness, where God is when I need Him. But really, I only wonder it in theory, as in, I  think to myself, can you imagine if you didn’t have faith that tells you, God is indeed with you–even in these frustrating moments?

During the gloomy seasons I am reminded that my faith is in fact, a gift. Were it something I could achieve to possess, when life turns itself inside out in small, usual ways, I would be flat unable to muster enough to fill even a small cup of comfort.

No, instead I remember as I hang my head over the mounting pile of dishes in the sink, the words of Ephesians 2:8

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith–and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God–

And I think of all the reasons that threaten daily to swipe this gift from my hands, to erase it’s power in my heart and head, and I think–if faith is a gift, it seems possible that we allow our inability to make sense of the senseless to prevent us from fully receiving the joy of the gift.

It is possible then, that as our pleas for faith are answered, we remain unable to grasp the gift because we think too much with the head and refuse to react with the heart. Life  pitches rocks at our paper houses and we watch it all fall down. These stones scraped up from the cursed ground, shake our faith and rattle the truths we’ve tucked within us.

To believe in God, means that we must see Him as He is, and not as we create him to be–He is most often, nothing we imagine–He is infinitely more–beyond what we are capable of knowing. To have faith in Him we must accept the scriptures that say “my ways are not your ways” (Isaiah 55:8).

We juggle the lemons of sour seasons and yet are reminded that His grace continues to pour out because He is. He makes all things good and right for His purposes. We don’t know what a God this big and good looks like in any sense of trying to describe Him–

He simply is. He gifts us with faith and joy of trusting His presence in all the varied seasons of a life.

Smash whatever box you’ve built to carry around this Elohim, it’s nowhere near big enough.

5 Responses to The Gift That Gets Us Through
  1. Annie
    October 9, 2012 | 1:48 pm

    Love this, Kris. Yes, God is who He is, and we can rest in that. Thank you!

    • kris
      October 9, 2012 | 9:20 pm

      Thanks, Annie. I always appreciate your sweet encouragement! Love and grace to you, my friend!!

  2. Diana Denis
    October 9, 2012 | 10:45 pm

    Hi Kris, I’ve had a frustrating kind of night here with dishes, laundry and bickering children. And now here I am, with you, taking Him out of the box. A deep breath is in order. I will remember these words as I ask Him to wash me with grace. Undeserved grace. Mood-changing and faith-building grace.
    Thank you.

  3. Nikki
    October 9, 2012 | 11:34 pm

    Oh Amen…nowhere near big enough…

    Love your heart, friend. Your post here adds the exclamation point my thoughts needed on my post today. Because these seasons we find ourselves in? He’s got them covered…

    Finding comfort lately in knowing with what little faith I have that He never changes. what a gift…

  4. Deb
    October 10, 2012 | 4:15 pm

    This is beautiful Kris. Thank you for this lovely addition to my day. Truly a blessing.