Tuesday, April 17, 2012


(a work in progress)

It was on Good Friday it happened.

My parents had raised me in church:
Sunday service,
Sunday school,
choir and handbells,
learning a creed, a Psalm, a prayer,
a commandment or ten,
confirming vows with my classmates,
and I thought doing those things made me a Christian.
(I even read my Bible on my own at night for extra credit, to round out my resume.)

I was firstborn, perfectionist, eager to please parents and teachers,
a "good kid," except when I snuck change off my dad's dresser
or lied to avoid punishment or amaze and amuse my friends.
My good was good enough for the grown-ups,
so I thought it was good enough for God.

On that Good Friday twenty-five years back,
I didn't know I was lost, but
He found me,
there on my knees beside the bed,
fretting over possible embarrassment in singing alone for the first time.
He gave me new eyes,
better than first glasses,
and suddenly I saw what I had not seen:
that perfectionism wasn't perfection,
that only perfect was good enough for God,
that only Jesus was the good enough,
that the Good Enough sweated life's blood and died for sins not His own,
for my sins, all my own.

My resume was rubbish,
my Sunday best smeared and tattered,
and I was as dead as an armadillo on the interstate.
I saw this,
and it took my breath away,
and He breathed in His,
His pneuma-breath-Spirit,
and I lived again for the very first time.

Singing was my birth cry,
"Thy will be done."
The trumpets that Easter rejoiced for me,
and I went to Sunday service,
Sunday school,
choir and handbells.
I said the creed, prayed the prayers, sang the hymns,
and they lived with His presence.
How had I missed Him there all these years?
I even read the Bible in the mornings,
for joy,
for sustenance,
for He was there.

I couldn't get enough of Him,
yet found enough in Him,
my Lord Jesus Christ.

That Good Friday was my Good Friday too,
and my Easter, all in one,
when I was crucified with Christ,
when my tomb was emptied
and my life hidden with Christ in God.

By grace I have been saved.

But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared,
He saved us,
not because of works done by us in righteousness,
but according to His own mercy,
by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit,
whom He poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior,
so that being justified by His grace we might become heirs
according to the hope of eternal life.
Titus 3:4-7, ESV

Pondering the practice of Resurrection with the friends at Ann's and Emily's:

I Live in An Antbed


  1. Ah. I loved reading the story of your salvation.

  2. Is it possible that I was there to hear that? Did you know one of my first memories of Custer Road is singing with your family on Family Choir Sunday? I always loved listening to your voice. It was always so lovely!

  3. Thank you, Natasha. I so appreciate you sharing your day here with me. May the Lord who loves you give you just the supply of strength and provision you need for this day.

  4. I love this...me, a first-born too, and I know something of the resume...the perfectionism...and oh, what it means to let that go. Thanks for stopping by my blog, I'm glad to have found yours!

  5. I'm not sure. I was in 9th grade, so you would have been 6th? When did your family come to CRUMC? Thank you for liking my voice. I'm a fan of yours too. :) Love you, dear Tatie.

  6. Thanks, Brandee. I'm always drawn by other people's but don't often tell my own. It's a blessing to remember our history with God. Happy Wednesday! Prayed for you this morning.

  7. Thank you for coming over. Always nice to meet another recovering perfectionist. :) Lovely to meet you today and now to know your name. Grace to you in Jesus, Erica.

  8. Love the way you told your story, how Good that Friday was. :) Blessings, dear sister.

  9. Thank you, Prasanta. Blessings to you also, dear one.

  10. "singing was my birth cry"... so beautiful...

  11. woo hoo....clap clap....always love those stories...we make a pretty big deal on celebrating these in our church...smiles...

  12. Thank you, Emily. Grace to you for all the Lord brings today.

  13. Thanks! And well you should (celebrate these stories). It's wonderful your church does that. The Lord bless you in whatever story your day will tell.

  14. Beautiful grace. This is all so lovely despite our unloveliness. I've read it a few times now, and the line, "My good was good enough for the grown-ups, so I thought it was good enough for God," resonated (as well as other lines). I remember realizing I was frustrated I had such acceptable sins with grown-us--too easy to keep them. Glad I happen to writing this on a Friday. . . a Good Friday:)

  15. What an interesting frustration. Surely that itself was a mark of grace. So nice to have you share your day here, friend.

  16. Dear Friend...such joy to read your soul-birthing story here. What a beautiful thing to be buried and raised on Easter weekend, right along with our Jesus. So grateful for His redemption of you and me and all of us broken people. And so very, very grateful to call you Friend.


Thank you for sharing your day with me! Your presence here is a gift. *You* are a gift. Right now I am unable to reply to every comment, but please know I read and pray for each and every commenter. Grace and peace to you in Christ.