Real Life: one person's story of getting to the Land of Grace

Previous blogs in this series:
1-- Pits, Towers, Fields and Dancing
2-- ... Thoughts on Sheep
3-- Getting out of the Towers
4-- The Shadowlands
5-- The Land of Grace: Casting Shadows
6-- When the Tower Crumbles: Getting to the Land of Grace
7-- A Disclaimer
8-- Holy Scripture, Batman
9--Shadows in the Land of Grace: the Comparison Game
10-- The ONLY One-- Other trips into the Land of Grace

It's been creeping along gradually for years now. I read through old journals, and I see epiphanies and prayers inching me steadily closer to this goal:

Grace.

Accepting it for myself; extending it to others. I could share a million small steps that scooched me here, but then I'd have to type the contents of several journals onto this blog.

So I'll focus on the last couple steps that were especially significant.

Earlier this year, I realized that God was calling me into a deeper understanding of Him, and I KNEW-- like, head knowledge, knew-- that that understanding had a lot to do with accepting Grace. But, because I only know how to trytrytry at things, and workworkwork at improving myself, I didn't know HOW to just accept Grace.

It's like, I'd spent my whole life building my Tower higher through creating bricks and writing new formulas. I've spent my life working so hard to be the daughter I thought God wanted. I tried to do everything right, I tried to be what I was supposed to be for everyone. I tried to seek God through what I understood as His conditions, His rules, His formulas. Even the blog I just linked to entails a formula: "I understand now that I am meant for deeper waters, and that I will only be capable of successfully living on land once I have lost sight of it altogether in the vast depth of the ocean."

So-- I knew that God wanted me to accept Grace. Like-- He'd shown me that as the destination/goal. But I didn't know how to GET myself there. I was so used to WORKING towards destinations, but this was a destination I couldn't WORK to get to. I knew that what I really needed to do was just chill out and let go, but I couldn't get to a place of chilling out by WORKING at it.

I remember this dichotomy colliding on the day that I went to a wedding down in Eugene, OR. I brought my friend Shannon with me, and I remember wrestling with this on the long drive down. One of the reasons I appreciate being friends with Shannon is because she calls me out when I deserve it. On the drive down, we were talking about foremost "desires,"-- Shannon told me this theory about foremost desires and foremost fears-- and she was guessing at what my "foremost desire" might be.

"I think yours is maybe COMFORT," she said.

I bristled at that-- I don't know why. "No it's NOT," I said. "I push myself out of my comfort zone ALL the time!" I said. Inside, I thought, "That's wrong. Comfort is wrong. Comfort is not what I should be. God wants me to be a risk-taker. I AM a risk-taker. I'm doing it RIGHT!"

Then I thought, "It shouldn't matter what I am. I'm supposed to accept Grace. Why is this bothering me so much? I need to not be bothered. I'm doing it wrong."

Before the wedding, Shannon and I stopped for a snack and I remember sitting in the restaurant and feeling overwhelmed with the tension of what I SHOULD or SHOULDN'T feel, and the conflicting knowledge that what I really should feel is freedom from SHOULDS. I told her, "I feel like I could burst into tears right now. I don't know what's wrong."

Then, after the wedding, Shannon and I got into a fight. She got mad at me when I interrupted her and suddenly the tension exploded. I remember us standing upstairs in the hallway of the reception hall, trying to talk through our mutual frustrations, and the whole time I felt like there was something so much bigger trying to erupt out of me. Finally I confessed through tears something about how I felt so WRONG-- I felt so heavy, I was trying so hard to be what God wanted but I kept messing up, and this moment was just one more moment where I was getting it wrong, but I was trying not to CARE about getting it wrong, but I didn't know how not to care, and I just felt like I was failing. Shannon hugged me and prayed for me and we both wept together and promised to be friends for a long, long time.

Then I got a $304 speeding ticket on the drive home.


On Monday, I went to counseling. I have no recollection what Shelly and I talked about, but she must have emphasized the point that I was okay, that I was allowed to feel the way I felt, that I could let my heart be restful, because that's what Shelly always emphasizes to me.

On my drive home, I ran a yellow light.

That's when I crossed the threshold, I think.

Because in that moment, my default-criticism-voice leapt in: "Greta, what are you thinking?? You just got a huge speeding ticket, what are you thinking running a yellow light?"

But THEN, Default-Criticism Voice was shoved out of the way and Grace-Cheerleader wriggled her way in.

"Ta daaah!" she crowed cheerfully. "What a whirl that was, huh?? Way to go through that yellow light! What initiative! What DRIVE!" Then a tinkling laugh. "Ha!-- Look at that-- we just made a pun, we are hilaaaarious, you did such a good job just then!"

It was sort of like God let me be insane for a couple hours, so that I could make the leap into grace.

Because little Grace-Cheerleader Voice stuck with me all evening. I got home and brooded, "I haven't had any vegetables today. I should eat a salad for dinner. But what I REALLY want is my expensive cheese from Whole Foods."

Grace-Cheerleader did a cartwheel. "Eat the cheeeese!" she sung. "It's such good cheese! You love that cheese! And you've worked hard today! ENJOY the cheese!"

I thought to myself, "I should grade during dinner. I have so much work to do. But what I really want to do is watch Portlandia."

Grace-Cheerleader wriggled her rump and sprung up into a klutzy split leap, laughing delightedly at herself. "Portlandia! Such a good show! So funny! Watch it! It's okay, it's a great show, and you will enjoy it, and you are WONDERFUL!"

In my silent apartment, I let this odd division of my brain spring and bound around my living room, doing twirls, leaps, falling over in elated dizziness, and crowing affirmations at me the whole time.

I was loved, no matter what I did. No matter what choice I made, I was loved and delighted in.

She gave me grace. GOD-- showed me how to accept grace.

I had my cheerleader for just an evening, which was probably a good thing. Too much of that could lead to real irresponsibility I think... But it was magical to discover the world through that lens of inescapable forgiveness and love.

The last major moment for me came after my car started smoking one night after core group. At this point, I'd written my first entry about the Towers and Fields, so I had that analogy in my head... I was getting to a place where I could understand how to accept grace for myself. However, THIS was when I realized how freeing it is to extend grace to other people. Because, as I was sitting in the bar, waiting for the AAA towtruck and beating myself over the head with-- "FAILURE"-- I was sending out S.O.S. texts. I sent one to a very important person. I've kept this person in a tower longer than almost anyone else I think, because I've held on to ideas of what this person SHOULD and SHOULD NOT do for longer than just about anyone. For now, let's call this person "Dog" because that's essentially what I wanted this person to act like: a dog. Ever faithful, ever available, never failing.

I sent Dog the text: "My car just started smoking so now I'm waiting for AAA to come. Please pray that the repair isn't too expensive!!"

Dog responded back 10 minutes later with, "Uh oh."

Not, "Are you okay?" Not, "What happened?" Not, "I'll be praying!"

Just, "Uh oh."

And the next morning, when recalling the evening before, that response near infuriated me.

This is what I wrote in my journal that morning:

"I know that, with Dog, I've chosen the Towers over the Fields for much longer than maybe anyone else. This morning, once again, I felt angry that Dog wasn't a BETTER Dog. My mind was filled with the SHOULDs of what Dog should have done.

"Then, I recognized that as pulling me out of the Land of Grace. 'Greta,' I told myself, 'Don't do that. Thinking about what Dog SHOULD have done will only put you in the Towers again. Try to just focus on God as your heavenly Father. Try not to care.'

"But then I recognized that I'd put myself right back into a SHOULD-NOT tower with that prayer...!

"So... I breathed deep and told myself: 'Greta. It is okay that you are disappointed with Dog. It is okay that you are disappointed with lots of people because that is one more indication of the brokenness of this world. People will BE disappointing-- they will NOT show up. And that's far from what we're meant to be. God envisioned a world where people loved like Him—unconditionally, consistently, with the utmost faithfulness. The fact that people on earth don’t love like that is a disappointment, and it’s appropriate to grieve that. This is a jagged edge from a spot of brokenness—and it is okay to feel pain. This is not what it was MEANT to be.'

"Then I thought of Dog being in his own field of grace and tried to remember that this was a place of love and compassion, and that Jesus forgave us all, even as we’re at the bottom of pits, even as we’re DIGGING pits, even BEFORE we’ve begun digging pits.

"And remembering how kind Jesus has been to me in the Land of Grace made it easier to forgive Dog and feel compassion.

"And then I heard in my head, 'Part of living is discovering emptiness and recognizing where broken pieces should have been made whole.' Discovering those tragic vacancies, I think… is part of recognizing God as the Healer. It’s part of realizing what the Kingdom of Heaven was MEANT to be, and an invitation to take the next step in the dance with Him, towards bringing that Kingdom closer.

"He fills the empty places."

I found myself in this amazing new world. For one of the first times in my life-- maybe THE first time-- I didn't have a "good" or "bad" sticker, slapped on my emotion. I allowed myself to BE in the place where I was at, and let God speak truth to me through that pain. And in allowing myself to enter back into the Land of Grace, I suddenly realized that I'd allowed Dog to join me there too.

This is something I've realized: if you are keeping someone in a Tower, you will typically find yourself in a Tower as well. If you are truly in the Land of Grace, you can't help allowing other people to exist there alongside you.

Because remember? We all have shadows, and we are all loved.

And want to hear something amazing? As I was finishing the above journal entry that morning, I got a text from Dog: checking in. "Hey-- how did it all work out last night? Everything okay?"

And because of the place that I had journaled myself to, my response WASN'T what it would have been before that journal entry-- it WASN'T a snarky, grumpy, bitter, "Well finally."

Instead, I felt delightful surprise-- a confirmation, not only that God was paying attention, but also that this earthly person loved me. And I was able to accept the text from a place of gratitude and love, rather than condemnation.

See why this analogy has rocked my world so profoundly???

I've mentioned in previous blogs that I'm still on a major learning curve; I still periodically find myself in and out of Towers, and still have a lot to learn about living in the Land of Grace. But transitioning here has enabled me to feel more free than I've felt in years. I have been clutching and fearing and measuring since 14-- maybe even before that. But now-- I am breathing deep. I am okay with not knowing. I am experiencing healing in relationships that have been ragged for years. I feel light, and I feel sure that Jesus loves me, no matter what. I feel spacious, and open, and free. These are revolutionary states for me.

And I can't express how AMAZING it is to feel this safe, and this loved, and this free, in this lit-up Land of Grace.

The ONLY one: other trips into the Land of Grace

Previous blogs in this series:
1-- Pits, Towers, Fields and Dancing
2-- ... Thoughts on Sheep
3-- Getting out of the Towers
4-- The Shadowlands
5-- The Land of Grace: Casting Shadows
6-- When the Tower Crumbles: Getting to the Land of Grace
7-- A Disclaimer
8-- Holy Scripture, Batman
9--Shadows in the Land of Grace: the Comparison Game

I've written one blog about how one can get to the Land of Grace; in that blog, I described a long solo journey over an ocean with Jesus, where He is the only companion, truly the only "pillar" left standing. Although I think the ways to come to the Land of Grace are as varied as the many individual life stories present in the world, I do think I believe there must be some element of recognizing Jesus as the ONLY one, in all of them:

The ONLY one who knows everything in us.
The ONLY one who loves us unconditionally, in spite of knowing everything in us.
The ONLY one who actually has the power to save, heal, and forgive us.
The ONLY one who never runs out of patience or grace.
The ONLY one who is not stained with the corruption of this world, and therefore, the ONLY one who deserves our whole-hearted hope.

And so on.

I've envisioned other metaphorical journeys to the Land of Grace, both inspired by different verses in Isaiah. One journey is through a desert. In that case, just about everything is taken away from you and you finally cry out in desperation. This can be equated to colliding with a huge personal failure, with discovering that safe spots are no longer safe, with dealing with major struggles, etc. What does a desert look like? It looks like a vast barren landscape, with no comfort, no food, no place to hide, no trustworthy companion, no inspiration. Where does Jesus meet us in that moment?

He says, "The poor and needy search for water, but there is none; their tongues are parched with thirst. But I the Lord will answer them; I, the God of Israel, will not forsake them. I will make rivers flow on barren heights, and springs within the valleys. I will turn the desert into pools of water, and the parched ground into springs. I will put in the desert the cedar and the acacia, the myrtle and the olive. I will set pines in the wasteland, the fir and cypress together, so that people may see and know, may consider and understand, that the hand of the Lord has done this, that the Holy One of Israel has created it." (Isaiah 41:17-20)

In other words, after finding ourselves so wholly devoid of confidence, comfort, or companionship, we cry out for help-- and He promises to answer that prayer. Once we've acknowledged that we are wholly lost without Him, He tenderly provides water, springs, new life. He plants trees alongside each other that normally wouldn't be seen in close proximity, as an image of reconcilliation. He makes it BETTER-- and we know, at that point, He's the ONLY one that could have done so.

The other journey I pictured was out of the Shadowlands. In that image, I picture a person diving deeper and deeper into shadows to cover up his or her own sin. He shrouds himself in the death-cloak of the world, because the Light of Truth is too shattering. I imagine that person finally entering into total and utter darkness, lost, wandering, trapped, made blind in suffocating night. At that point, the Lord tells His people in the Land of Grace to go rescue the prisoner of darkness. He tells them,

"I will take hold of your hand. [I will make you a light] to open eyes that are blind, to free captives from prison, and to release from the dungeon those who sit in darkness. ...I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth... All [of these people] are trapped in pits or hidden away in prisons. They have become plunder, with no one to rescue them; they have been made loot, with no one to say, 'Send them back.' Which of you will listen to this or pay close attention in time to come?" (Isaiah 42:6-7, 16, 22-23)

It's interesting isn't it? In that second chunk, I can't tell if God's giving more reassurances to the people trapped in darkness, or to His servants who He orders to go get them. Those Land of Gracers have work to do, that's becoming ever more obvious to me. I can tell you that, throughout the context of this whole passage in Isaiah, the adament theme is that God is the ONLY one who can accomplish this all. He scorns idols in that passage-- i.e. those people or things that we would look to deify and find safety in-- and repeats over and over that, not only does He love us and will protect us, but that He is the ONLY one with the power to save us.

What other journeys occur? You could probably tell me far better than I could tell you at this point, since our actual journeys are as varied as our DNA strands. Especially because I've come to the Land of Grace through a storm of turmoil, my envisioned journeys will generally be pictured as coming out of turmoil. I wonder if, in order to truly understand Grace, we must also understand what it means to feel trapped, what it means to be in Shadows, what it means to feel bereft of worldly safety. Like the song says, "The shadows prove the sunshine." Or, in the words of Annie Parsons, "Maybe the one who's been broken and healed is more graced than the one who's just well."

Still. I sure think it would be beautiful if we could arrive at the Land of Grace without scars.

On Thursday or Friday, in any case, I'll give you the layman's version of how it worked for me: getting from the Tower to the Land of Grace. I'll explain the actual circumstances, the actual thought process, the actual words from the journal. Next entry will be free of metaphor, I promise. Well... as much as it's possible for me to be free of metaphor. :)

In the meantime, I listened to this song today. It's incredible-- talks about the Towers, and the Shadowlands, and the Land of Grace all together. Listen to it and read the lyrics (in the video) with the analogy in mind.

Shadows in the Land of Grace: the Comparison Game

Previous blogs in this series:
1-- Pits, Towers, Fields and Dancing
2-- ... Thoughts on Sheep
3-- Getting out of the Towers
4-- The Shadowlands
5-- The Land of Grace: Casting Shadows
6-- When the Tower Crumbles: Getting to the Land of Grace
7-- A Disclaimer
8-- Holy Scripture, Batman

On Sunday, I was in a funk to rival all funks.

I was GRUMPY, and SURLY, and feeling really LAME about myself. In my journal, I drew a hairy, biscuit-shaped creature, and then labeled it: "Me = Prickly ball of insecurity."

This is how I imagine this translating to the Land of Grace:

She wanders out of the light and into a shady grove. There, she catches the seductive glow of a glinting green pool. Mesmerized, she walks deeper into the darkness and stares into the mirrored water. Instantly, the pool comes alive with reflections, but these aren't reflections of the light-- these are reflections of her own fears and insecurities, made all the more vivid by the shadowy cover around her. Her thoughts leap into the pool and dance mockingly around the reflection of her face. She sees other people more successful than her; she sees other people LOOKING better than her. She sees people in love, she sees people attaining success, she sees people that are liked more than her. Her own reflection warps and mottles and she looks at it in horror, convinced this is what she has become.

Meanwhile, ivy snakes creep out of the dampened ground, taking advantage of the girl's distraction. They wind quietly around her ankles, up across her calves, sneaking over her torso and silently lash her down. Lost in herself, the girl has become trapped, losing the freedom she found in Grace.

This is what happens when we play the Comparison Game. The people I know who do the most good, who love others in profoundly meaningful ways, are people who are comfortable in their own skin. When we are not focused on ourselves, we are free to focus on others, and seek to promote their well-being.

When we're lost in the world of our insecurities? We are trapped, and immobilized. We recognize lies to be truth and beat ourselves over the heads with them. We accept darkness as our home, and begin to waste away beside the poison pool. Worst of all, we are too distracted to lift our gaze to the needs of others.

I know I haven't talked about this part yet, but the primary role for those who live in the Land of Grace is to love others WELL. That often means going into the Shadowlands, actually, and bringing light with them. That's another blog though.

The point is, however, if we lose ourselves in these shadowy places, we lose the freedom and lightness of joy that comes from loving others well.

I just read this passage a couple nights ago:

You, my brothers, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the sinful nature; rather, serve one another in love. The entire law is summed up in a single command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” If you keep on biting and devouring each other, watch out or you will be destroyed by each other.
Gal. 5:13-15

We are called to be FREE, and in that freedom, we are called to serve each other in love. Pretty difficult to do if you're tied up in snaky vines, lost in a pool of self-absorption.

So how did I get out of that shadow grove? Let's get back to the real world.

Well, first I went to church. That was sort of like Jesus coming along and throwing a rock in the pool. The reflection shatters, and I look up startled.

"Hey! Remember me? Remember the light back there? Stop soaking yourself with lies, daughter."

And then-- God was so nice to do this-- the girl I happened to sit next to at church turned to me after the service and said, "Greta, right?"

Surprised, I said, "Yes!"

"I'm sure you don't remember me, but I was a freshman when you were the ministry intern at my college," she said. "You sang a song once about studying abroad, and it seriously changed my life." She started to get teary. "I ended up studying abroad and had a really bad experience, and I used to think of your song lyrics all the time. Just-- know that you are affecting lives for the Lord more than you could ever know."

I stared back at her with my jaw dropped. "Well, I've been in a grumpy funk all day, so right now God is using YOU to encourage ME!"

And that was sort of like Jesus taking my hand and YANKING me up out of those ivy snakes, snapping every one of them.

"Come back to light. Come back to grace," He says. "Remember who you are, what I've created you to do. Dance in freedom and love, and show my sons and daughters how much I love them."

One of the surest ways to keep yourselves OUT of the Land of Grace is the Comparison Game. When we compare ourselves to others, or when we compare the people we love to others, we will be disappointed. And how's this for irony? Most often, the people we're comparing ourselves or others TO are just as insecure and flawed as we are. Comparisons will almost always lead us to this poisoned pool. The longer we stay there, the more trapped we become-- we may even come close to drowning in our own lying reflection.

Getting back to Grace, I think, requires remembering Truth:
We have ALL fallen short.
NO ONE has it all together.
We are loved.
There is purpose in the trial you are undergoing.
God sees what we're going through, loves us in our mess, and is working to bring our lives towards what is good.

And if remembering all of that STILL fails to pull you out of your funk, sometimes I think forcing yourself to love someone else is a good way to snap yourself out of that poison pool. Because if you're looking to love someone else, your focus HAS to lift out of that pool right?

That's enough for now.

Holy Scripture, Batman!

Previous blogs in this series:
1-- Pits, Towers, Fields and Dancing
2-- ... Thoughts on Sheep
3-- Getting out of the Towers
4-- The Shadowlands
5-- The Land of Grace: Casting Shadows
6-- When the Tower Crumbles: Getting to the Land of Grace
7-- A Disclaimer

I read my Bible at night, before falling asleep. This works well for two reasons:

1.) I'm reading my Bible, which is a good thing to do.
2.) Scripture's usually really good at putting me to sleep.

Except last night, it did not make me sleep. Last night, I was yelling at Carly while perched in my bed because the portion of Isaiah I was reading was ALL ABOUT TOWERS AND SHADOWLANDS AND FIELDS...!

Look look look:

Isaiah 28:11-13
"...God will speak to this people,
12 to whom he said,
'This is the resting place, let the weary rest';
and, 'This is the place of repose'—
but they would not listen.
13 So then, the word of the LORD to them will become:
Do and do, do and do,
rule on rule, rule on rule;
a little here, a little there—
so that they will go and fall backward,
be injured and snared and captured."

Those are the Towers! See? God WANTS us to find rest, but instead we distort the word of God into "do and do and do" and "rule on rule on rule." And what does that become? A PRISON. We are CAPTURED.

Oh don't worry, there's more. Isaiah goes on to say these people will feel impenetrable, they will feel secure in their "covenant with death"-- they will say, "when an overwhelming scourge sweeps by, it cannot touch us, for we have made a lie our refuge and falsehood our hiding place" (28:15). The Towers are supposed to make us feel safe, right? And they do. But IT'S A LIE. Isaiah tells those people, "When the overwhelming scourge sweeps by, you will be beaten down by it. As often as it comes it will carry you away... The understanding of this message will bring sheer terror. The bed is too short to stretch out on, the blanket too narrow to wrap around you" (18-20). Those are the Tower cells: blankets too narrow to shelter you from the agonies of this world; beds too short to offer lasting comfort. This world has a LIMIT. Isaiah says, "Stop your mocking, or your chains will become heavier" (22). Chains! See? It's a prison! We try to protect ourselves with rules, but it's a prison!

Later in chapter 29, Isaiah says, "These people come near to me with their mouth and honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. Their worship of me is made up only of rules taught by men" (29:13).

Baaaaaaaaaah, it's not enough to obey the RULES-- the world is more complex than that!

Here's Isaiah discussing complexity in the Land of Grace:

" 23 Listen and hear my voice;
pay attention and hear what I say.
24 When a farmer plows for planting, does he plow continually?
Does he keep on breaking up and harrowing the soil?
25 When he has leveled the surface,
does he not sow caraway and scatter cummin?
Does he not plant wheat in its place,
barley in its plot,
and spelt in its field?
26 His God instructs him
and teaches him the right way."

In other words: formulas don't work in the fields. You can't always trust that plowing will be the right thing...! Sometimes you plow; sometimes you have to break up the soil; sometimes you have to sow. Some fields are right for wheat; some for barley; some for "spelt," whatever that is. How do we know what to do when, or what to PLANT when? We have to listen to instruction. It requires intimacy-- listening to the voice of the Shepherd. Isaiah continues:

"27 Caraway is not threshed with a sledge,
nor is a cartwheel rolled over cummin;
caraway is beaten out with a rod,
and cummin with a stick.
28 Grain must be ground to make bread;
so one does not go on threshing it forever.
Though he drives the wheels of his threshing cart over it,
his horses do not grind it.
29 All this also comes from the LORD Almighty,
wonderful in counsel and magnificent in wisdom."

Oh-- and what about the Shadowlands? Isaiah talks about that too!
"15 Woe to those who go to great depths
to hide their plans from the LORD,
who do their work in darkness and think,
'Who sees us? Who will know?'
16 You turn things upside down,
as if the potter were thought to be like the clay!
Shall what is formed say to him who formed it,
'He did not make me'?
Can the pot say of the potter,
'He knows nothing'?" (29:15-16)

The Shadowlands is the place where Truth is obscured-- where darkness is used to mask both sin and Truth. That's JUST what Isaiah talks about!

AND, people in the Shadowlands "say to the prophets,
'Give us no more visions of what is right! Tell us pleasant things, prophesy illusions. Leave this way, get off this path, and stop confronting us with the Holy One of Israel!'" (30:10-11). But in Galatians-- which is the chunk printed right after Isaiah in my One-Year-Bible (it's broken up weird), Paul pleads to the people in the Shadowlands, "Formerly, when you did not know God, you were slaves to those who by nature are not gods. But now that you know God-- or rather, are known by God-- how is it that you are turning back to those weak and miserable principles? Do you wish to be enslaved by them all over again?" (Galatians 4:8-9).

In other words: the people in the Shadowlands are eager to avoid truth in favor of cheerful lies. That sets them up to worship gods that are not God-- but that worship is enslaving.

I bet you're thinking, "Wow Greta... you've just sliced and diced a LOT of scripture to conveniently work within your analogy." It's okay if you're thinking that. I thought that last night too. Then I read this:

"In the day of great slaughter, when the Towers fall, streams of water will flow on every high mountain and every lofty hill. The moon will shine like the sun, and the sunlight will be seven times brighter, like the light of seven full days, when the Lord binds up the bruises of his people and heals the wounds he inflicted" (30:25-26).

BAAAAAAAAAAH, "when the Towers fall"! And remember when I wrote, "...the Land of Grace is bathed in bright light... Even after the sun has set, the Land of Grace is blessed with a bright, full moon." And Isaiah talks about the "moon shining like the sun, and the sunlight will be seven times brighter"!!!

I mean... this is freak-out-worthy, right? I feel like Isaiah and I are on the same trippy wavelength.

Okay, that's all for now.

A Disclaimer

I would like to clarify some things.

1.) As much as I talk about the Land of Grace being HERE, and the Towers being THERE, and the Shadowlands being over THERE, and speak of them as though they were distant countries, the reality is that I can emotionally hop from one "land" to the next in a matter of seconds. I can sometimes even exist in all three at once. I say that I have "moved" into the Land of Grace, but the move is a slow process-- I find myself frequently back in the Towers, folding newspaper around one more mug, packing up one more box of books, stuffing one more sweater into one more suitcase for one more trip with the Uhaul. I might even bring bricks of the crumbled Towers with me into the Land of Grace, and stack them pointlessly in that open land, like a child might stack wooden blocks. And sometimes when I'm in the Land of Grace, I might quickly pull an umbrella over my head and darken Truth for a minute, wishing me back to the Shadowlands where Truth has been reduced to a mere whisper. I think it's possible that many of these lands overlap, bleeding into each other as fluidly as our emotions bleed into thoughts. I don't know if that's a good thing. But I think it happens.

2.) Also, have you noticed that, even as I deride the Towers for relying too heavily on formulas, there are a number of implied formulas all throughout this analogy?

3.) On that note, I feel the need to announce the fact that I am hypocritical far more often than I wish I was. In my "Casting Shadows" blog, I referred to the people in the Land of Grace as "we," including myself among them. Forehead smack. How often do I REALLY acknowledge my own shadow as I'm critically eyeing someone else's? I am outside the Land of Grace often. Learning still. Slowly.

4.) Furthermore, my very wise younger sister was recently telling me something that God was doing in her life, and I immediately tried to assess how that worked in terms of this analogy. She stopped me with a wry grin and said, "Nope. Don't even try. Not everything's going to fit into this analogy. God is WAY bigger than anything you or I could ever come up with." And I thought, Well. That is true.

5.) I know people in the "Shadowlands" who seem extremely content, free, peaceful, and happy. So that whole bit might be flawed too.

In essence, this analogy falls short in many, many ways, as any analogy must that tries to capture the ineffable essence of God and Christian spirituality. However, I have found this concept to be profoundly helpful in moving my heart to a place where it can more freely forgive and offer grace-- both to others, and myself. And as long as aspects of these "lands" continue to articulate themselves in my head, I think I'll continue to feel called to keep writing them out in some form.

Take them or leave them-- and please, let's all remember how incomprehensibly complex and rich our God truly is.

When the Tower Crumbles: getting to the Land of Grace

Previous blogs in this series:
1-- Pits, Towers, Fields and Dancing
2-- ... Thoughts on Sheep
3-- Getting out of the Towers
4-- The Shadowlands
5-- The Land of Grace: Casting Shadows

Guys, my heart is so heavy today.

This week has been a deluge of tragedies in the lives of people I care about. My students, some of my dearest friends, my core group girls-- favorite people all around me are being crushed by tragedy and disappointment.

This morning, while praying, I started to cry in grief and frustration. "Would you DO something God? Could you be miraculous? Could you be radiant somehow? Could you fricking HELP?"

I tried to suggest that I take over for Him for a while. "I need words of encouragement Lord. Give me pictures to offer them. Give me words of hope." I thought about what I would be doing if I had the power of God. Certainly, I thought, I'd be doing more than HE is right now. "You'd better give me words of comfort, Lord," I told Him, "Because my people NEED comfort." Though I didn't outright accuse God of slacking on the comfort-provision job, we both know I was implying it.

The only response I got from God was stern. "That is not your job. I am their comfort."

I sighed hard in frustration and sadness, and even though I didn't want to release the burden of this responsibility, it slipped off my shoulders anyway.

There is a problem with the Land of Grace. The Land of Grace is not immune to inclement weather. Crap happens, even in the Land of Grace, because as long as we are on this earth, crap will HAPPEN. The Land of Grace is not heaven, it is not Disneyland, it is not immune. It is a place of freedom, yes, of truth, yes. Jesus, the "good shepherd," is ever present in the Land of Grace, and He is a pro at helping us out of our pits. But it is also a place of great complexity, and it is not immune to tragedy.

When talking with one of my students yesterday about the huge grief and disillusionment he was experiencing, he said, "I feel like everything I've ever trusted in and believed in is crumbling down around me. I don't know what to think or believe right now."

I thought:
"Real Life Tower Crumblers:
-----> Anyone who's ever had an expectation of God that He didn't meet.
-----> Anyone who's ever experienced a tragedy that seems senseless.
-----> Anyone who's ever been massively disappointed by someone they trusted and believed in.
-----> Anyone whose formulas for success have failed.
-----> Me."

And I looked at my student, and I thought, "Him too."

When our pillars of certainty fall, when our towers of black and white crumble, what do we do? Where is God in that moment?

In my blog about "Getting out of the Towers" (linked above), I wrote, "It's only a matter of time before the Tower topples, leading these poor people searching for certainty, searching for Truth, desperate for protection. It's terrifying when a Tower crumbles... but probably the best thing that could ever happen to a Tower-clinger in the long run."

This morning, with tragedy in my face, attached to names that I love, that hypothesis was ruthlessly challenged. When life falls apart, IS it truly the best thing that could happen to a "Tower-clinger"? How dare I suggest that this sort of tragedy could actually be beneficial? And what about people that got out of the Towers a long time ago? What about people that are doing their best to live in the Land of Grace, but keep getting pushed into pits by elements outside of their control?

Let me be clear: I don't think that tragedy like my friends are experiencing is always beneficial. I think a lot of crap happens in this world that God doesn't have a hand in, and I think it grieves Him just as much as it does me. I do believe-- reluctantly-- that God must allow any circumstance to occur because I believe He is all-powerful. And I do believe that God can work good from all circumstances, because I've seen that truth play out in my life again and again.

Still. Sometimes He's a lot slower in bringing good about than I wish He was.

This was the picture that came into my head this morning:

I pictured a Tower falling, as catastrophic as 9/11. I pictured a weeping someone, standing amidst the wreckage, overwhelmed with the brokenness around them. I pictured the someone feeling vulnerable, afraid, clueless as to where to go next.

The setting clarified itself: the debris, and the someone stood on a stormy beach. Waves roared, the sky thundered. Jesus emerged on the shore with a boat and an extended hand. He looked deep at the someone and without speaking, asked: "Come with me."

This, I think, is maybe the most crucial decision any of us will ever make. Do we stare hard back at Him, and opt for the Shadowlands instead? Do we decide, at that point, we've had entirely enough of HIM, and we'd rather take our chances on our own? Do we determine He isn't trustworthy, hasn't proved Himself trustworthy?

Or is it worth the risk to get in the boat? Is it worth taking that one last chance-- of trading chaos for a small vessel sailing out into a sea of ambiguity, captained only by a man who promises love and saving, no matter what?

In my picture, the someone sighed deeply, looked hard at Jesus, and stepped into the boat, leaving the wreckage on the shore. Slowly, slowly, I watched the waves begin to coax the debris into the ocean. Slowly, slowly I saw the beach begin to clear.

In the boat then, sailing further and further into a vast nebulous sea where there is nothing to cling to except the Lord at the helm, the someone sits and weeps and watches the waves. And because there is NOTHING except the Lord, the someone learns His voice well, because it is the only voice. And because there is NO ONE except the Lord, the someone learns to love Him and trust Him as one could only love and trust their sole companion. In that sea of questions, the only sure thing is His presence.

I think getting to the Land of Grace requires the crossing of this ambiguous ocean.

Because when the chaos descend-- and they WILL descend, even in the Land of Grace-- the ONLY way I see survival occurring is by returning to that only Lord. How can we love, if we don't know the Voice of Love? How can we trust, if we are not clinging to the Lord of Saving? When we find ourselves falling into a gaping maw of shattered earth, how can we climb out, unless we reach for the only arms strong enough to pull us out?

I am frustrated with my Lord today. And yet, as I cried in frustration during prayer this morning, I pictured myself clinging to His legs and begging for His help.

Even in the moments I would fight Him, I need Him.

I cannot be my friend's source of comfort, because I am not enough. I must go to Him for comfort, and pray they do the same. Grace, perhaps, is allowing Him to be powerful, and ourselves to be powerless.

Lord, help. You're needed.