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Today I am reposting the most highly rated post that I have ever written about rodents. This is also the only article I have written about rodents… but the truth of sentence one is unchanged.

Gritty rats and mice living in sewers and farms seem to have healthier immune systems than their squeaky clean cousins that frolic in cushy antiseptic labs according to recent studies. The lesson for humans: Clean living may make us sick. That was the AP story that caught my attention. And I pondered the odd theory that these disgusting rodents may offer a clue to ineffectual Christian living as well. Let us explore.

Associated Press Science writer Seth Borenstein writes about the recent research.

The studies give more weight to a 17-year-old theory that the sanitized Western world may be partly to blame for soaring rates of human allergy and asthma cases and some autoimmune diseases, such as Type I diabetes and rheumatoid arthritis. The theory, called the hygiene hypothesis, figures that people’s immune systems aren’t being challenged by disease and dirt early in life, so the body’s natural defenses overreact to small irritants such as pollen.

The new studies, one of which was published Friday in the peer reviewed Scandinavian Journal of Immunology, found significant differences in the immune systems between euthanized wild and lab rodents.

When the immune cells in the wild rats are stimulated by researchers, “they just don’t do anything they sit there; if you give them same stimulus to the lab rats, they go crazy,” said study co-author Dr. William Parker, a Duke University professor of experimental surgery. He compared lab rodents to more than 50 wild rats and mice captured and killed in cities and farms.

Also, the wild mice and rats had as much as four times higher levels of immunoglobulins, yet weren’t sick, showing an immune system tuned to fight crucial germs, but not minor irritants, Parker said. He said what happened in the lab rats is what likely occurs in humans: their immune systems have got it so cushy they overreact to smallest of problems.

Challenged immune systems — such as kids who grow up with two or more pets — don’t tend to develop as many allergies, said Dr. Stanley Goldstein, director of Allergy & Asthma Care of Long Island.

Human epidemiological studies have long given credence to the hygiene theory, showing that allergy and asthma rates were higher in the cleaner industrialized areas than in places such as Africa. Parker’s studies, looking at animal differences, may eventually help scientists find when, where and how environmental exposure help protect against future allergies and immune disorders, said Goldstein, and Dr. Jeffrey Platt of the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota., both of whom were not part of Parker’s studies.

Parker said he hopes to build a 50-foot artificial sewer for his next step, so that he could introduce the clean lab rats to an artificial dirty environment and see how and when the immunity was activated.

That may be the biggest thing to come out of the wild and lab rodent studies, Platt said: “Then all of a sudden it becomes possible to expose people to the few things (that exercise the immune system) and gives them the benefit of the dirty environment without having to expose them to the dirt.”

A couple of thoughts immediately come to mind. First, how do you sell your boss on building a 50 foot artificial sewer? Second, I remembered the house that eldest and second sons lived in during their college years. Squeamish parents would stop at a gas station to use the bathroom before visiting the guys. We wondered why they were not sick all of the time. Now I realize that they were probably healthier than I ever could have hoped. These men utilized the brilliant strategy of creating an artificially dirty environment to stimulate a healthy immune system. It is always great when science validates slothfulness. And it is even greater when you can figure out a way to incorporate slothfulness into a sentence.

But how does this relate to an ineffectual Christian life? I think that the average Christian in America has also compromised our spiritual immune system by choosing a cushy and safe Christian experience. We have tuned our immune system not to fight crucial sin in our lives, but minor irritants. When you talk to fellow Christians are you passionately concerned about communicating the gospel to the world or about some minor irritant (person or program) at your church? Do we agonize over injustice in the world or petty injustice in our lives? Have we programmed our spiritual immune systems to battle pride and selfishness? Not likely. And by the way…I did not fare well in the pop quiz posed in this paragraph.

And the rats may hold another clue. I recently read a quote from an excellent book called Organic Church. The author noted that to reach the world for Christ we have to be willing to sit in the smoking section. I don’t mean to imply that all smokers are not Christian. The point is we have to be willing to get out of our “comfort bunkers”. 

Paul wrote this to the Roman church.

Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.

Paul is not saying that we are to avoid being conformed to the world by isolation from it. We are instead to be transformed by the Holy Spirit renewing our mind. Isolation does not transform us at all. If anything, isolation makes us lukewarm. Because we can’t have a robust spiritual immune system if we live in a sterile sanctuary environment only. And that may be where the rats can teach us the biggest lesson. Our tendency is to stay in the sterile lab (church) and never venture into the sewer (lives of hurting people). We have too often chosen the safe route of turning on the light and praying those in need will come to the light. Some will. But most will not. Instead we are called to take the light to those in need. Jesus noted that in the Sermon on the Mount.

 Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven. 

When Jesus says to let your light shine before men I think He was talking about Monday through Saturday as well as Sunday. I am sick of Sunday Christians. I have spent too many years putting my light under a bowl. I have too often chosen the safe and antiseptic sanctuary over the authentic and often dirty sewer of people in need. I want my spiritual immune system to attack real threats and not minor irritants.

That scares me. But not as much as not pursuing that life scares me.

This has been a tough month for those living with cancer and those who live with them. The recurrence of cancer for White House spokesman Tony Snow and political wife Elizabeth Edwards has been sobering to say the least. Those voices that I wrote about a few days ago start trying to get your attention. It is easy to despair. But God is sovereign. He sent me a postcard of encouragement this week. His name is Ed. Ed is one of those friends that you don’t see for years and when you get together you pick up right where you left off. He is in town this week and we are hanging out, laughing, debating, laughing, and enjoying every minute. Regular readers of these ramblings might remember a reference to some Ed guy in previous posts. Move to the head of the class. I asked you to pray for him and wife Judy in October of last year. There was fear that Ed’s lymphoma cancer had returned. Thank you for praying. The results of those prayers and God’s sovereignty have deposited my friend here in Texas. So while we are laughing and catching up on old and new times…here is that post from last October. Not all of the news on the cancer front is bad. Be encouraged that He is still in control.

Blessings, Dave

Veterans of the early 70’s might remember a song from Rare Earth called “I Just Want to Celebrate”.  Real veterans of the early 70’s might have spotty memories so I will help you out with the lyrics.

I just want to celebrate, yeah, yeah
I just want to celebrate, yeah, yeah
Another day of living,
I just want to celebrate another day of life

Those words came to mind as I prayed for my friend Ed. Perhaps the biggest compliment a guy can give to a masculine friend is that you both love and respect them. Respect is big guy thing. I suspect you only get a handful of true friends in a lifetime. Ed is one of those friends. He is loyal. Ed is a real guy who is strong enough to be tender. He is funny. Edgy. He is a guy who hates playing church (and who has a colorful way to describe those who do). And Ed is one of the most authentic followers of Jesus I have ever met. How do I know that? Because I have seen how his faith stands up to the storm. I could see his face as I meditated on the words of Jesus in Matthew.

“Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock.”

Ed’s foundation is the rock. And his example has helped me to keep doing my own foundation work.

I have written a lot about Christians who do damage as they proclaim Jesus with their lips and then deny Him completely with their lives. I have tried to be honest about my own struggles in this journey with Jesus. But I have to tell you there is no greater inspiration than seeing a man or woman of God demonstrate His abiding presence. I have seen many examples of that recently. I have watched my wife Joni face her difficult journey (cancer and chemotherapy) with amazing strength, courage, faith, and trust. I watched the Amish saints in Pennsylvania show a stunned nation what it really means to follow the teachings of Jesus about forgiveness and love. And I have observed from afar as my friend Ed navigates his battle with a brutal form of lymphoma. And now we circle back to the lyrics above. Ed wrote a word of encouragement to Joni last June as she was growing weary in her chemotherapy ordeal.

I don’t know if I told you, but they took me off the cancer meds after six years! Our prayer has been, “Please let Ed live and serve.” Now it has changed, “Please let Ed live and serve without the meds.”

I say this to encourage Joni. The dailyness of this makes it so hard to see past the weakness and the disappointment. Here is a sentence the Lord gave me when I was dying and struggling through each day: I am as alive today as anyone. He helped me realize that until I take my last breath, He still has plans for me (Ephesians 2:10) and I could not conclude that this was it. So, I got up, and asked Him for strength for the next minute, sometimes for every minute for a couple of days. Then for the next hour, the next day, the next week etc.

Sure enough, at last count, seven men I know pretty well, about my age, guys I fought fires with, men I served with in ministry, men who stood at my bedside with panic in their eyes at my malaise, are dead. Think of it, Joni, people who are praying for you now are only as alive as you. It is not the meds or the care, it is the Lord who determines when death comes and the quality of life.

I knew the Lord wanted me to do two things: Pray for healing, and I still do. Find the best doctors and do what they say, which I still do…mostly.

So, dear Joni, know that our prayers are prayers of faith and bold. We’re not mealy-mouthing the evangelical jive, “Only your will be done.” Of course His will is going to be done, He’s God! He loves you; He loves us; He cares more than we can know; and HE ANSWERS PRAYER. So, we’re going to pray our heart: Let Joni live to see her grandchildren grow up and please give her relief.

The idea of celebrating another day of living brought that note from my friend to mind. We just really suck at that. We forget that everyday is a gift. A treasure to be opened and savored. Cancer makes you realize that in a very stark way. I am praying for Ed because his lymphoma may have flared up again. A recent knee operation triggered the terrible skin rash and agony again. It may be just a reaction to the meds. That is my prayer. But Ed and his beautiful wife Judy have again shown their mettle in the storm. Here is the email I received yesterday.

Judy and I appreciate your prayers that carried us through a long, dark night. As you know by now, the main source of discomfort for me and concern is the “skin issue” once again. Last night was the first night off meds–pain meds, sleeping meds, antibiotic meds.–every hour filled with itching, skin falling off, twinges of pain in the knee, and, as you might imagine, anxiety.

With decades of studying about, relating to, walking with, and telling others about “Our Father” in my life, I was able to focus my thoughts on a comforting phrase from the New Testament–Abba Father (Romans 8:15).

So you have not received a spirit that makes you fearful slaves. Instead, you received God’s Spirit when he adopted you as his own children. Now we call him, “Abba, Father.”  NLT

This is an endearing and intimate title for God the Father that could be translated, “Father, my  own dear Father.” It is the title a child uses to relate to a father when the child knows that he or she is dear to Him, the one He delights in. 

So, last night was so much more than a night of malaise, it was a night I spent on my Father’s lap, talking with Him about my fears, feelings, and hurts. It is the upside of suffering for the child of God–deepening intimacy with Abba Father.  Please continue to pray that the knee will continue to improve, the rash will stop, and that I can return to my life with these lessons of faith in my heart.

Once again I am humbled in my puny walk with Jesus. That is an amazing line. “The upside of suffering for the child of God is deepening intimacy with Abba Father.”

Would you join me in prayer for Ed and Judy? I am so blessed, proud, and honored to be their friend.

…Continue to pray that God will allow Ed to live and serve.

I started a series on not becoming a victim recently excerpted from my book “Bring’em Back Alive – A Healing Plan for those Wounded by the Church”. I took a break from that series last week but I thought I had better not leave any potential victims hanging. So here is the last installment in this series.

In the Christian walk hurts are inevitable. Feeling like a victim and deciding to stay there really is optional. The Apostle Paul was a pretty fair theologian and was hand picked to spread the message of Christ. He was not able to avoid trouble and hurts. To the church of Corinth he wrote, “As servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: in great endurance; in troubles, hardships and distresses.” 2 Cor 6:4  Doesn’t sound like the type of message that would lead to a successful televangelist career. Paul obviously encountered difficulties in his walk with Jesus and he related his appreciation for the support of the Church at Philippi, “Yet it was good of you to share in my troubles.” (Phi 4:14)

Paul, like most of us, desired that his life go without a hitch. But God revealed to him the purpose of troubles. And you will note that there was a small group of people that were there to share in his troubles. Most of us are familiar with Paul’s reference to his “thorn in the flesh”. The rendering in The Message gives an interesting read on Paul’s spiritual growth through difficulties.
 
“Because of the extravagance of those revelations, and so I wouldn’t get a big head, I was given the gift of a handicap to keep me in constant touch with my limitations. Satan’s angel did his best to get me down; what he in fact did was push me to my knees. No danger then of walking around high and mighty!  2 Cor. 12:7 (MsgB)
 
Paul’s attitude is a pretty solid baseline of spiritual maturity. When you can use the phrase “the gift of a handicap” and actually mean it you have achieved a depth of faith that is exceptional.
 
We must not become victims from wounds that become spiritually life threatening because we choose non-treatment.  If the hurt is genuine and deep then we will explore some steps to move forward toward healing in the coming chapters. But if you have hit the spiritual wall of victimhood my prayer is that you will decide to move forward this day.

There is a story told about the great General Robert E. Lee. He visited a Kentucky home where a bitter and angry woman pointed to what was left of a magnificent tree in front of her house. She was still upset that Union artillery fire had ruined the shape and beauty of the tree. She looked to General Lee to share her anger. She wanted the great leader to condemn the “Yankees” and sympathize with her. Lee paused and quietly said, “Cut it down, my dear Madam, and forget it.” Lee knew that the ravaged tree would only be a constant reminder of her victimhood. He wisely suggested that the reminder be cut out of her life so she could get on with her life. That tree would never be the same and bitterness would not change that fact.

I have often chosen to leave those scarred remnants in my own heart and mind that only remind and upset me all over again. For many of us it is time to emulate the words of Robert E. Lee. “Cut it down, my dear brothers and sisters, and forget it.” Jesus gives us the tools to cut it down.

I started a series on not becoming a victim recently excerpted from my book “Bring’em Back Alive – A Healing Plan for those Wounded by the Church”. I took a break from that series last week but I thought I had better not leave any potential victims hanging. So here is the next installment.

Blessings, Dave

All of this leads to a hard truth that I am unable to avoid. It is incredibly easy to embrace victimhood when we are hurt. It is even more problematic when we are wounded and we are sure in our hearts that we have done nothing to deserve such treatment. In the last chapter we saw how Jesus asked the blind beggar what he wanted from Him. In the gospel of John we see another example of how Christ asked a seeker to make a decision to leave his woundedness behind, knowing that he could never again fall back on that as his identity. 

Soon another Feast came around and Jesus was back in Jerusalem. Near the Sheep Gate in Jerusalem there was a pool, in Hebrew called Bethesda, with five alcoves. Hundreds of sick people-blind, crippled, paralyzed-were in these alcoves. One man had been an invalid there for thirty-eight years.

When Jesus saw him stretched out by the pool and knew how long he had been there, he said, “Do you want to get well?”

The sick man said, “Sir, when the water is stirred, I don’t have anybody to put me in the pool. By the time I get there, somebody else is already in.”

Jesus said, “Get up, take your bedroll, start walking.” The man was healed on the spot. He picked up his bedroll and walked off.  John 5:1-3 (MsgB) 

First, Jesus asked the invalid if he wanted to get well. What an amazing demonstration that God will not force Himself on anyone, no matter how obvious the need, if we don’t make a decision to accept His healing. Second, Jesus asked the man to do something. “Get up,” Jesus said to the man. He knew full well how much faith it would take to even attempt that seemingly simple task. When he made the choice by faith to leave his victimhood behind he was healed.

Alfred D’Souza wrote that, “For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin – real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life.” I have come to that same realization regarding the church. These flawed people, these perceived obstacles to my joy are the community that Jesus ordained for me. They are my fellowship life. Waiting for them to perfectly meet my needs will leave me frustrated till I depart this planet. Is that a pessimistic view? I don’t think so. And the reason is that I am also one of those flawed people that those around me have to deal with through the grace of Jesus. The amount of energy invested into forgiveness or bitterness is probably about the same. But the end results are diametrically different. One choice leaves us paralyzed in the past. The other choice gives hope for the future.

….to be continued

 

Last weekend the striking Mrs. Burchett accompanied me on a speaking engagement in Knoxville, Tennessee. We spent a few days at a cabin in Pigeon Forge and did the tourist thing. One of the highlights took me by surprise. My bride loves pottery so one of my “sacrificial” ways to love her is to accompany her to pottery shops. Guys refer to that as “hitting behind the runner” or “taking the charge”. We stopped by a local shop called Alewine Pottery and I was immediately fascinated by the open work area. There was the owner making vases and pots right before my eyes. Behind me were shelves of the finished products – colorful and beautiful and functional.

I watched him take a nondescript piece of clay and skillfully make an unique and beautiful creation. The verse from Isaiah came to mind.

O Lord, you are our Father.
      We are the clay, and you are the potter.
      We all are formed by your hand.

Suddenly that verse came to life. But the complexity of the potter’s work and his skills made the metaphor really connect for the first time. The forming of the raw material into unique forms is just the beginning of the process. That is how it is with us as unique creations of our Father. He forms us by His hand. Like the pottery in that shop, everyone of us is an original. But our process is also complex and it has just begun when we first submit to shaping by the Potter’s Hands.

The potter must make sure that no dirt or impurities are in the clay as he forms the pot. If he finds those impurities he carefully removes them before finishing the shaping. These bad materials will make the pot weak and not useful for it’s intended purpose. God desires to do the same with us. Impurities (sin) weaken us and keep us from our intended purpose.

The potter must also make sure that air bubbles don’t remain in the clay. Air bubbles can cause the pot to crack when the heat is applied in the kiln. I thought of those air bubbles as pockets of resistance in my life. I can appear to be molded to God’s direction. But I have “bubbles” of pride and anger and control. These bubbles of self can cause me to crack under fire.

The metaphors that Scripture uses are so powerful when we take the time to understand context and culture. I realized that the pot on the potter’s wheel is beautiful but essentially useless when it is initially formed. The pot is carefully dried and set aside. At this point the piece is called greenware and it is extremely brittle and easily breakable. Two things need to happen to make the pot strong and usable. The clay must go through the fire of the kiln to be strengthened and it must be glazed. An article on pottery at Wikipedia had an interesting parallel to the spiritual metaphor.

Pottery is made by forming a clay body into objects of a required shape and heating them to high temperatures in a kiln to induce reactions that lead to permanent changes, including increasing their strength and hardening and setting their shape.

Trials by fire can have that same effect on us as followers of Jesus. Trials can make us stronger and set our shape as His followers. Or the fire of life’s trials can harden us against God and make us useless for His plan.

I realized that I am just beginning to really understand that process in my life. I would be content to stay in my greenware state, brittle and not useful for service. But God knows that it is in the fire that we are strengthened and made useful. It is in the heat of trials that the true beauty of our creative process is revealed. And every instance of significant growth in my life has been in the fire of adversity.

There are a couple of  huge differences between the earthly potter and God as the Potter. When the earthly potter finds a bad piece of clay he will just discard it. Our Heavenly Potter patiently works with us even when we seem unshapable. If careless handling or air bubbles cause an unfired pot to break the pieces are discarded. Only our Heavenly Father can take the shards of brokenness and make a pot more beautiful and useful than before.

The words of James made more sense in the context of the potter’s process.

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.

There is no joy in the trial but there is joy in the knowledge of how God uses such events in our lives. If you are in the trial or facing a trial be comforted that God desires for you to emerge strengthened and beautiful and useful. One potter said that the greatest thing about making pots is that each lump of clay has near-infinite potential. The lump of clay that is me and the lump of clay that is you has infinite potential because we have an infinite God. I pray that we will allow Him to shape us in His image. I pray that we will confess the impurity of sin and ask Him to remove it. I pray that we will burst the bubbles of self that control us. I pray that we will trust the Heavenly Potter as we enter the fire. And most of all I pray that we will not fear the process that God uses to make us beautiful and useful creations.

 

I have always longed for a more distinct appellation. A more colorful moniker. A memorable sobriquet. Instead I am named Dave. I share my very original name with 3,553,128 other citizens of this great country according to the website howmanyofme.com. My name is the 7^th most common male first name in America. Los Angeles has a population of about 3.8 million so you could populate about 94 percent of LA with Daves and Davids. I looked throughout history and I saw many distinctive names that I considered for my upgraded cognomen. I am envious of the title given to Diogenes. The philosopher was known as Diogenes the Cynic. My wife quickly vetoed “Dave the Sarcastic” since that is one of my gifts that she is trying to downsize.

Some of the names in history were powerful. William the Conquerer and Richard the Lionheart conjure up images of strong and courageous leaders.

Some names would not make the hearer real comfortable.
“I would like you to meet Vlad the Impaler.”
That’s a party ender. Being introduced to Ivan the Terrible or Pedro the Cruel would not make for comfortable small talk either.

Some other names are not so intimidating. It must have been odd to be the King of France and have the title of Charles the Simple. But that was better than his predecessors, Charles the Bald and Charles the Fat. Charles the Bald had a son who became king. His name was Louis the Stammerer. No kidding. It must have been fun to be the king, nervously waiting for your title to be assigned. Since they titled kings by obvious traits I would have been “Dave the Awkward Dancer”. But that is still better than “Dave the Simple”.

There seems to be a lack of creative among the really, really powerful. Alexander, Catherine, Herod, Peter, Frederick, Constantine, Cyrus, King Alfred, Xerxes, Darius, Gustav Adolph, and many others called themselves “the great”. That seemed way too pompous for me. And since I am going for authentic about who I am that title would simply not be honest. Still, “Dave the Occasionally Above Average” lacks the impact I was hoping to find.

My search for a new title was fruitless. But I am thrilled to report that my bride has a new name. First, a bit of background before we unveil Joni’s new designation. One year ago today was D-Day. Diagnosis Day. At just about the time that I am writing this one year ago I received a call from Joni telling me that she had breast cancer. We began a journey that has been difficult and long. But it has also been an amazing testimony to the sustaining strength and comfort that God gives His children when we totally depend on Him. God has taught us so much in the past year. I asked Joni what her biggest lesson from the cancer had been. Her answer was trust. Trust in a God who is trustworthy. Joni wrote these words in the middle of her chemotherapy.

I don’t like being sick but God keeps  reminding me that He is in charge of my body, the cancer, the treatments and the timing even though  I feel so out of control.  When I am able to relinquish control of my situation is when He can work.  Lord, I thank you for Dave, my earthly rock, and I thank you that you are my true Rock.  Psalms 31:3  For thou art my rock and my fortress;  for thy name’s sake Thou wilt lead me and guide me. 

Joni built her foundation on the solid rock of Jesus and she withstood the storm with courage, grace, and dignity. Recently she underwent the one year scan to see if the cancer had developed anywhere else. The scan was clear.

So Joni has a new title that is better to me than all of the great titles of history. Her new title is “Joni the Survivor”. That has a wonderful ring to it.

 

 

 

(For those who are breathlessly awaiting the next installment of the victimhood series…it will resume in a couple of days)

God is a great teacher. He is a prof that I cannot bluff. I report to Him that I have read the material. I tell others that I have done my homework. I speak proudly about how I am mastering the course. And then He pops the life quiz to see if I have truly absorbed what I say I have learned. Those who are honest about this journey know that you are in trouble anytime you announce that you are determined to be more (choose from the following partial list: patient, loving, obedient, forgiving, prayerful, serving). God smiles and arranges a test. I hate the spiritual pop quizzes as much as I did the academic ones. But they are just as revealing about how I am doing. A recent pop quiz consisted of work situations that frustrated me and other people conspiring (I thought) to divert my focus and steal my joy. How did I do? I failed the test miserably. I was grumpy. I was discouraged. My joy meter barely moved. I bombed the test.

Later I regrouped and had a personal conference with the Teacher (He is really good about that). That is when I remembered again what grace means to me. Yes, I failed miserably. Yes, I was disappointed in myself. Yes, I was a little embarrassed that I have written and spoken so boldly and flopped so easily. But here is what poured over my soul from the Holy Spirit.

You are my child.
I love you.

Grace always takes me by surprise. I am not conditioned by this world to expect love and acceptance when I have failed. I am conditioned to expect condemnation, shame, and rejection. But there was the Father God patiently and lovingly dealing with me. Mark McMinn, a professor at Wheaton College,  wrote these words in an article in Christianity Today.

“Seeing our sin occurs over a lifetime of pursuing God. Our vision is seldom restored in a single burst of light but with countless rays streaming into our darkened eyes over many years—and always in the midst of amazing grace.”

That is the power of grace in my life. In His infinite mercy God does not reveal the ugliness of my heart in one gigantic and loveless revelation that would destroy me. He chooses instead to gently chip away at the rough edges of pride, selfishness, and disobedience. The famous artist Michelangelo would often select a block of marble that others thought unsalvageable and then go to work on that ugly hunk of rock.  He once remarked, “I saw the angel in the marble and I carved until I set him free.” That is what God’s grace means to me. He sees the beauty in the piece of rock that is me. And He sees the beauty that no one else sees. He lovingly and gently carves away the ugliness until a little beauty begins to come through. But He never gets angry and gives up if another strata of ugly crops up.

That is what grace means to me. Even on the days that I fail miserably I know that I am loved. I am accepted. There  is nothing that I can do to make God love me more and nothing I can do to make Him love me less. This is one place where the spiritual hall monitors are apt to jump in and complain about “cheap grace” in the church. Cheap grace means one thing. You don’t understand grace. Because grace understood would never translate to making such an amazing act of unmerited mercy trivial or unappreciated.

Paul and Barnabas proclaimed to the assembly that,  “We believe it is through the grace of our Lord Jesus that we are saved.” A common acronym for grace is God’s Riches At Christ’s Expense. Recently I have experienced a new acronym for grace.

God’s
Radical
And
Complete
Embrace

Most of us know the story of slave trader John Newton who repented of his sin and wrote a popular little tune called Amazing Grace. When he said wretch he knew what he was talking about. At the end of his life Newton said to his friends, “My memory is nearly gone; but I remember two things: That I am a great sinner, and that Christ is a great Savior.”

He is indeed.

Amazing Grace. How sweet the sound. That saves and oh so patiently perfects a wretch like me. Amazing.