Avoiding Grace

Too much coffee. Hard to keep fingers on the right keys this morning. It’s not just that one cup of coffee giving me the shakes though…I have uninvited visitors.

It’s Nerves.

These persistent little parasites never go away. Mucking up my stuff all the time. Having a nice little party, serving steaming plates of guilt and poking ripe doubts onto decorative toothpicks all while I foot the bill.

“What if no one reads this? Ew eww or worse, what if SOMEONE reads this? Then you’re in trouble.”

Shut up, Nerves. Go sit in your corner and drown in a bottle of hot sauce– take Anxiety with you, too. I’m trying to write an intro. Focus on the main point. Stop thinking about what people will think, and just say IT.

” …?”

Ugh. I’m going to just leave that space blank. I can’t sum it up in one neat clear concise anything.

There’s too much spaghetti going on and not enough waffles. How do people do that, put everything in a nice tidy waffle square and speak about things without question, or at least peeking into the box next door? What about everything else that’s going on too? All those sloppy noodles tangled up making nothing clear and everything connected? Maybe no one knows that book and this won’t make sense anyway.

I quit my job. Canceled my gym membership. Stopped going to church. Wanted to shave my head, with this ridiculous purple hair. People compliment it all the time and it startles me into an overenthusiastic, THANK YOU!! and I wish I had stayed home. I know it’s worse when I start thinking about shaving my head. Thank you, Nerves and Anxiety, for inviting Britney to the party.

And for all that avoidance, I still went to church Sunday. Not the one I’m technically a member of. The smaller one where nobody knows me.

Why do I keep putting myself through this?

This week it’s because a friend told me I shouldn’t let my kids see me run away from my problems. “Pull yourself together and go to a church. Just pick one and go.” And later, her text, “I want to tell you Jesus still loves you but I don’t want to make you cry.”

Oh. Will church fix it this time?

So, I went.

I hesitated when I recognized the organ player, but actually that was okay; she aimed a real smile at me and kept playing. Otherwise, I was gratefully anonymous. Besides the purple hair–people always seem to remember that. I really should have left it brown.

The sounds there are unfamiliar to me so I thought it was raining outside until the air conditioner turned off. Still, it was comforting– Anxiety was busy for a minute, straining against his party jacket.

The monotony of too much music that I couldn’t get in to gave me focus– now Nerves was put-out, too.

I was in the sweet spot and could tune in to the Pastor.

I’m ready. Let me hear it. Please for the love, give me something that’ll make me want to come back. Because I want to want to be here.

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Six minutes later the party is in full swing and now a heavy-bass band called, ‘Run and Hide‘ is grinding out a new song. Pastor is supplying the lyrics about ‘The Narrow Door to Heaven’ and the alternative; Hell. About the ‘sweet-smelling poison’ and the people who are always on fire but never burn out. How ‘the maggots keep chewing but never run out of flesh.’

I try to gauge reactions without moving my head—is no one running for cover? Not even squirming?

They’re not. But of course, they know what’s coming next. They wait patiently, maybe even a little bored– and then it’s delivered.

The Gospel.

The soothing faith, the knowledge backed up with all the correct verses. Jesus went to Hell for us, all we have to do to enter Heaven is realize we could never deserve it. Because Jesus took All of Everything off The Scorebook in our place. We will never be on the outside, gnashing teeth, looking in. We are saved and safe.

But wait– all these ‘church people’ Jesus warned. Why was he warning them? If the door was too narrow for them…

Were they saved, or not? Am I supposed to be terrified or guilty or relieved and secure? Wait! Where is this bridge or safety net or peace of mind? How is this okay? All I hear is how narrow that door is–

Why on God’s Marvelous Earth should I have a chance to squeeze my way through that door someday? I don’t know how to accept this gut-twisting Grace. I’m either a fraud pretending to understand, or too honest and Offensive joins the party. I isolate myself because the more those verses get quoted, the surer I am that I will never understand. I think I liked it better before I knew better. When I thought I just had to love Jesus.

Nevermind, the organ is playing again and it’s time to give, and sign the guest-book. I don’t think I’ll supply my address and phone number. I can’t handle more Grace.  

Pastor says now, “Don’t cover your ears. Don’t cover your children’s ears.”

I hear you. I’m trying. Faith is attending this party, too. But you tell me all of this with a confidence I can’t fathom, and that narrow door is on the other side of a wildly uncertain party.

But what do I know now?

Now you should delete everything on the screen.

Welcome to the party, Worry. Surprised it took you this long to get here.

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References:

“Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.” (Matthew 7:13-14)

“But the subjects of the kingdom will be thrown outside, into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” (Matthew 8:12)

Men are Like Waffles– Women are Like Spaghetti