He Shouted Love

This week has been good. But today was better. 

My mouth fell open a little more each time I saw the light. The light that fell through the trees so gracefully, the light that I saw in my friends, and the way my church radiated light this morning. At the end of the day, my jaw is happily resting at my feet. 

I've thought a lot about grace lately. I'm not trying to preach to you. Just trying to share what's been on my heart lately. 

I've realized how fragile grace is. But yet, how strong it has to be. How the grace that Jesus gave us through his beautiful wooden cross was so fragile, but so strong as it kept him up there, gasping for breath, yelling my name. Grace and so many other things are what kept him up on that torture device. His passion for us, His hope that we would be able to live in love, pursued by His grace. All because of a cross. 

My friend Abby that I met at Rockbridge (a Young Life camp) sent me a letter. And on the mouth of the envelope, she had written "He shouted love". It wasn't beautiful simply because of her incredible handwriting, it was beautiful because it was real. It wasn't a bitterly sweet worship song  that I hear on some Christian station too often. Some of the songs, though soft, pretty, and graceful, don't seem real to me. But these words did. I saw Jesus' cry through those words, I saw his pain. I saw his beautiful mouth, opened so wide, as He asked God for mercy on that dreary and beautiful day that the most selfless thing was ever done. I saw him. So joyfully reaching for me. 

But isn't that what he did? Shout love? Shout love as he saw the potential of our life? Shout love as he saw us transform, from seeing us yelling "crucify him! Crucify him!" to watching us getting on our knees, tears in our eyes, singing so the most beautiful praise? Seeing us able to finally see his light, and not only enjoying it, but longing for it? 

That's where I've been lately. Longing for love, trying my hand at grace. Looking for little things and for big things, trying to find new ways to love old friends and old, worn, and lovely ways to love new friends. I've tried to notice the way people treat me. I've tried to notice my moms body as she pulls me in for hugs that I don't get tired of, I've tried to watch the way my boyfriend rubs my back during painful times and holds my hand when there's too much joy to contain by yourself. I've watched my best friends folded hands rest on the worn tables of coffee shops as we pray for each other. I've tried to watch my dads feet as he comes home from work each day, so that we can have adventures with a carefree mind. I've tried to watch my teachers as they grade and grade and grade, so that when I get thrown into the world, I can land on my butt and stand up and do pretty darn good. I've been noticing and observing and loving it. 

Here's to longing for love. Here's for landing on your butt and looking down, only to see God's feet as He waits for you to let Him pick you up. Here's to community, because who knows where I would be without it and it's variations of love. Here's to Young Life and the best moments ever. And here's to grace, because Lord knows we need a lot of it. 

Thanks for loving me. 

-Lin 

oh my lord, your grace

I can't really say that ive been rejoicing lately. My heart hasn't felt it.

I can't say that the bags under my eyes havent begged for makeup, my back has longed for more ice than Antartica contains and more Advil than you can find in all the Walgreens combined. 

I can't say that my heart has been satisfied on a daily basis, or that I have been patient with my brothers and sisters in the Lord. I can't say that I've been a 1 Peter 3:3-7 girlfriend, or that I've been the most loving friend I could be. I can't say that I've read my bible everyday, and I most certainly can not say that I haven't wished that God would just give me a day off and call me back in the morning. 

You know me. I'm gonna talk about how I don't have my crap together, how My sweetest Jesus does, and how he sews my heart together yet again. I chant this to myself; it's my life story. 

I talked with a friend this Sunday. About how I've been cheating myself out of prayer and out of trust through my horrendous back. I was ashamed when I realized that I had been lying to myself and to God about His plan, about how when I thought I was putting my full trust into Him, I was just gritting my teeth and hoping that someone who's actually powerful would come rescue me from pain. 

Oh, but how my God loves. Oh, how He still winks at me daily through grandparents and flowers and hymns. But mostly, my heart is kneeling at His feet, because I've fallen short yet again, friends. But He picked me back up, dusted me off, and through me back into my little life so that I could find joy in Him yet again, and so that I could fail another time and come running back into His arms. My golly, my Father knows me too well. 

I thought it was kind of hard when pastors and friends and strangers would say that following Jesus is hard. I wanted to defend Him, saying that "I know you're strong, I don't believe what those mean peasants say about you." I wanted smirk at them, flex, and tell them how strong we would be together. How nothing would make me look back, and how nothing would ever be hard as I drowned in The Lords love. 

Lol how wrong I was. But at least I was right about one thing: you don't wish you could go back. 

Do I look back over my shoulder? Occasionally. Occasionally I begin to turn my head, and Jesus takes my chin in His gentle hands, so that I can feel the love coursing through His fingers, and I can feel the beloved wounds where the nails used to be. He lets me look at him and awe and wonder how I could ever leave something so precious and perfect. 

And I'm thankful for those looks that keep me going, that keep me waking up every morning at some ungodly hour. That keep the grace flowing into my heart and into the lives of my brothers and sisters that are so much more to me than that name. Man, am I thankful for grace. 

I hope you give yourself a break. I hope you run to where He calls you with the biggest grin on your face, and I hope that wen you trip on the way, that you let Him dust you off and help you start again. I hope you let Him, friend. 

kneeling at my cross yet again, 

        -Lin