Grace

In sixth grade, a great teacher plus a little competition with another student sparked me to start really trying at school. (My grades were average before then.) That year I started getting A's. I think that's when all this began.

Throughout high school and college, I worked hard and continued to do well. I developed a type-A, go-getter personality where I throw myself wholly into anything I do. This works well when your goal is to get A's in school. It makes you feel like a good, and worthwhile, person. It strokes your pride. And it can carry a hefty price tag.

Working to earn rewards breaks down when you start internalizing it--when you start thinking that who you are depends on what you achieve. When you start trying to hold it all together in your life, trying to earn others' approval by how good you are (or more correctly, appear).

It becomes burdensome. You're afraid to let your weaknesses show, because others might not approve of you. You're afraid to not do the dishes at night, because if you leave the kitchen a mess, that proves you don't have it all together, and people might think you're a lazy housewife. During those inevitable times when life swings out of your control--like when caring for a child's sickness makes you backed up on the cooking and cleaning--the voice of shame starts whispering to your soul: You can't handle this. You're not good enough. Super-Mom [insert the name of one of your homemakerly idols here] would have been able to keep up with it.

Addiction to earning your own way is lethal when it carries over into your relationship with God.

A few months ago we had friends over for dinner. We know when we get together with this particular group that conversation will turn spiritual and serious. I found myself starting to cry as I "bared my soul" to these friends and described my struggle. You see, I never knew if I was pleasing God. Yes, I know He always loves me; but I wasn't sure if He was happy with my actions, if I was being good enough. Verses I misinterpreted were feeding my sense of self-guilt--I figured if it was possible to prophesy and cast out demons but not truly please Jesus (Matthew 7:21-23), maybe I was doing the same thing in a sense. How did I know that I really loved Him enough? "If you love me, you'll obey my commandments," right? All my bad attitudes, all the areas I find it difficult to sacrifice for God (like possibly moving overseas, etc.) stood out to me as a condemnation of how un-Christlike I was. Yes, I knew God still, well, liked me. . .but was I doing enough to live the Christian life? Was He really pleased with me?

Then one evening I started to read The Ragamuffin Gospel. (It and The Practice of the Presence of God now stand out as the two books that have most influenced my relationship with God, aside from the Bible). Brennan Manning described grace, and it changed my life. I began to understand what grace really is--that we are nothing, and God loves us. Repeat: we are nothing, and God loves us.

You mean I don't have to wonder if God's happy with me? I thought. No, I don't. Because I don't have to earn His approval. He gives it freely. That's grace.

I started to change. An anvil was taken off my shoulders. Instead of feeling the pressure to keep up a 'perfect' life (as if it ever were possible anyway!) I started settling for mediocre at times, knowing I didn't have to perform for my own or God's approval. It even began to influence my parenting--I started telling Kardelen when she had disobeyed not only that it made mommy sad when she did so, but also that I will love her no matter what she does. Because I want her to begin to understand grace through her parents.

The crazy thing is that I haven't even finished the book; I'm still on chapter four. But I wanted to share with you how understanding God's grace changed my life, and set me free from performance addiction. And not that I understand it fully--I think that every day as I experience it, I'll understand it better.