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"He was too proud to receive free grace from God. He didn't know how to live in a system where nobody owes anybody else anything. Though he understood that God wanted nothing in return, his mind could not communicate this fact to his heart, so his life was something like torture."

-Donald Miller, "Blue Like Jazz"

Practice what you preach.

I'm a big fan of God's grace. It is one of the biggest joys of Christian living which I share with people who are asking quesions about God. I know that God's grace is abundant, sufficient, and all-encompassing. Stop and think about that for a moment. There is nothing you can do which God is not willing to forgive you for.

Complete this sentence:

God, I know that I _____________, and I pray your grace is enough.

Fill in whatever sin you have committed and God is willing and able to forgive you for it. Humbling.

I start every day of my life with the intent of living a sin-free day. I fail virtually every day.

I'm a lot of things the bible says I shouldn't be.

I am angry. I ridicule. I lust for beautiful women. I am unforgiving. I am a braggart. I am selfish. I worry. I am a glutton/overweight. I am greedy. I use foul language. Do I need to continue?

We all sin. Sin can be intentional... pre-planned if you will. I sin by not doing things I should (sins of omission). I sin unintentionally. I sin without knowing it.

For every one of these things which I am and am not, there is grace. In my heart I I know that I am forgiven when I ask to be, but at the same time I find it very difficult to think I am forgiven. The flaw of trying to rationalize God I suppose. While it is me and not God who is harboring a sense of ill will towards me and my transgressions, the end-result is the same, I feel dirty and unworthy.

I torment myself constantly for my failures. I keep these thoughts from people most of the time and appear at most times to be cool, calm, and collected. This is not reality. In the words of NHL coach Fred Shero, "I'm like a duck: calm above water, but paddling like hell underneath." There are times where my paddling makes its way to the surface, and God always steps in one way or another and sends someone to help me deal with how I'm feeling.

Recently I twittered a statement about how I really needed to begin reconciling my failures with God. In my heart, I know he has forgiven me for them. In my brain, I think I still owe him something for that grace. Is it humility or pride which makes me think there's something I can actually do to pay God back? Hey God... thanks for that whole sending your son to die for me and forgiveness of all sins thing. Here... borrow my lawn mower and we're all square this week, okay?

That's what it feels like at times. Seriously? God does not need or want anything from me. If he wanted or needed something... he'd take care of that himself. He's GOD for GOD's sake!

The last time I had a mini-meltdown and exposed how I feel, God sent a friend of mine to me via a text message of all things. An unexpected source. This is someone I rarely see or talk to, but at the same time it is someone I have a world of respect for their intelligence, kindness, and faith. The conversation went like this:

Friend: Eric. Seriously. You have not failed God. Reconciling is one thing--we are all in the process of becoming more truly human, more truly whole. But that does not imply failure. Don't be so hard on yourself.

Me: Thanks. I try to tell myself that all the time. Grace is just SO hard to wrap your head around when you screw up so majorly.

Friend: I just hate to see you be the victim of a distorted theology. God is not a hander out of grades, passing and failing. He resurrects the dead.

Me: My heart knows that. It just has a hard time convincing my brain. It's simple in theory, but it's hard to not try and rationalize God and feel deserving. I fucked up a 10-year relationship, regardless of fault. I'll accept my part in it. I've broken my son's family. How do I just accept that?

Friend: We don't just accept the brokenness in our lives. I'm not suggesting that all bridges burnt can be mended. But there is something to be said for what Jesus was known for in his time. He was, to everyone, a healer. and when we call him our own healer, that (if we take it seriously) fills our own lives.

Me: Yes, but stubborness, weakness, whatever is is just leaves a sense of feeling like maybe I screwed up too much this time. Applying human thoughts towards how God operates is a fail, but that's what I need to work out.

Friend: It's not easy. Things may not be able to return to the way they should be in our lifetime. But our actions, our love, our prayers, all draw from that one great Act of resurrection -- and anticipates our own. If Gethsemane (Eric's note: Where Jesus and his disciples prayed the night before Jesus' crucifixion. "his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground." Luke 22:43–44) is anything, we know it takes time and tears and sweat and prayers on our knees. Seek, and you will find. Christianity has a rich history of "failures"... but they never did it alone.

Me: True. "Reconcile" is probably a poor choice of words, but it's what it feels like in a way.

Friend: Reconciliation is what we are after-- with ourselves, God, and everyone around us. Not a poor choice at all.

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God, I know that I _____________, and I thank you that your grace is enough.