Don't Pray for Patience

I hear it all the time, “Pray for patience.”  Some people even recommend purposefully practicing the act of waiting to help develop patience.  I don’t know about you, but there is a major disconnect for me with this philosophy.  Instead, the only thing I find that I wait for is patience itself!

If you are like me, you may need a more radical way of looking at patience.  When I first pondered this troublesome word (troublesome to me because I could not master it), I was led to the Fruit of the Spirit in which patience is one of nine virtues that reflect a follower of Christ.  They are all excellent virtues which I really want to have.  I dwelled on the fact that they were described as fruit.   To me fruit is a by-product of a tree or vine.  Think about it… how does fruit grow?  It doesn’t just pop out on a branch, does it?  We don’t get instant apples, or groves of grapes.  Fruit grows and is nourished from the vine it is connected to.  In John chapter 15 Jesus calls himself the vine and he talks about how to get this fruit:  “No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine.  Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.”

Fruit cannot make itself because the vine is what produces the fruit.  This got me thinking about patience being a by-product of something, or rather something that develops from an attribute of Jesus (the Vine) rather than our own efforts (waiting).  In fact, I believe each Fruit of the Spirit has a divine attribute of God that gives it life, is responsible for the formation of the bud and the continuation of its growth through constant nourishment (remain in me). 

Jesus has shown me that what we really are searching for are the attributes of God, instead of figuring out ways to produce our own fruit.  When we adopt the attributes of God as virtues they make producing fruit easier!  Granted, God’s attributes are vast beyond measure, but when we know what they are we can pray for and practice them in order to produce better fruit. 

Let’s get back to patience.  Waiting ≠ Patience, the divine attribute of HUMILITY =

PATIENCE. Since God is humble we can obtain patience: From a lowly manger birth to a borrowed tomb, the human life of Jesus exemplified humility.  True humility is an accurate understanding of who we are in relation to God.  It is realizing you are not omnipotent and that you have limits.  Humility doesn’t think less of ourselves; it thinks more of others.

While God loves us for who we are, we don’t necessarily love others the same way.  Especially when we are behind someone who is unskilled at using an ATM machine.  Don’t we want everyone to move as fast as or even faster than us?  Don’t we want them to have prices on all their groceries when they check out so that we don’t have to wait for a price check?  From waiting in line to relationships that get out of line, our patience gets tested at every turn.  If we’re honest we expect others to be as capable as or even more capable than we are.  The ugly truth is that impatience rears its ugly head when we elevate our own needs above someone else’s. 

Patience is an expression of humility which is the antidote to impatience.  Humility puts aside our ego and says that I am especially loved by God… along with everyone else!  When you are mature in humility, patience no longer becomes a waiting game, but rather the reflected virtue of our humble Savior.  Praying for and practicing HUMILITY will give you more patience.  It transforms “Mirror Vision” to “Window Vision”.  Remaining in Jesus helps develop humility so that you can see beyond yourself.  When you realize that we are all flawed, fallen and forgiven it reminds you how deeply loved we all are.    The love that fuels humility helps us think of others first, it attempts to understand others and it makes no demands of others.  This love is strong enough to remove the impatience in our wait and extends grace in its place.  I encourage you not to wait for patience anymore. Instead, live patiently because humility has found a comfortable home in your spirit.

I'd love for you to share your thoughts by posting a comment below, and I encourage you to share if you know anyone else who fruitlessly prays for patience too!

I invite you to follow me on twitter @karynhumphries and visit my website karynhumphries.com

Linda FAITH

I am overcome with conviction for my continued lack of faith.  A dear friend’s father had a major heart attack last week and has possibly suffered brain damage.  He is not spiritually saved; in Christian terms that means he doesn’t have a relationship with Jesus.  Knowing my friend’s passion for The Lord, I know this weighs heavily on her heart, maybe even more than his physical condition.  It was not looking good all week, but yesterday she shared that he made some meaningful movements, which were incredibly encouraging. 

I don’t know what will happen… I’ve been in similar situations before.

I recall the cancer battle of the son of another friend of mine.  There were scattered moments of hope, fostered by incredible health gains along the way, but ultimately he lost that battle.  I give credit to prayer and the powerful faith of The Northside Community Church, and others, for those hope-filled, miraculous moments. I no longer put anything past the strength of FAITH that The Northside has.  It is quite a phenomenon to me.  I know they are currently being vigilant in HOPE for our dear friend and her father.  

Perhaps that’s the real miracle of FAITH: the VIGILANCE in doubt, the PERSEVERANCE of belief through the reality of dire circumstances and the ultimate TRUST that no matter what happens, you’re NOT WRONG for making a stand in FAITH. This FAITH knows that our God CAN, and our God WILL.  It is not dependent on a feeling, or even vulnerable to what we sense in a situation.  The outcome is dependent, in some proportion, to the diligence of BELIEF on our part.

 My long-standing prayer has been Mark 9:24, “I do believe, help me overcome my unbelief!”  I think of how Jesus didn’t do many miracles in his hometown of Nazareth because of their lack of faith. (Matthew 13:58)  I tell myself that I have to let go of my previous experiences where healing did not take place, and take on the banner of, “I WILL BELIEVE no matter how remote the chances are.” I need to take responsibility for the lack of faith I brought to those previous experiences.  I need to dare to be wrong, to be confident even when shrouded in doubt and to elevate my earthly view to a new perspective. 

I need to INSIST in the BELIEF of the outcome, not just PERSIST in prayer.  So in addition to my prayers, I will say in my heart and mind: 

-          I BELIEVE that her father will make a full recovery and have time with Jesus on both sides of eternity.

-          I BELIEVE that my friend will be able to remain in Nashville and not have to leave because of unemployment.

-          I BELIEVE that a young life can still be filled with God’s glory, even if poor choices have changed its trajectory.

-          I BELIEVE I will do what I am meant to do for The Lord.

I BELIEVE my God is capable. I BELIEVE I have a part in the miracle.  What I must do is put my own skin in the game.  I need to be defiantly hopeful even when the circumstances are steeped in a convincing reality that lures me to believe, “It won’t happen.”  “They aren’t capable.” “It’s just too much.”

Additionally, I have to realize that some of the sad outcomes may just be someone else’s miracle.  Who am I to presume to know these things?  We will all die… for believers, who isn’t to say that that is the biggest miracle and blessing of all?  I pray for The Lord to give me His eyes to see the power of faith and my responsibility in it.

In the book Kingdom Woman, Tony Evans gives the account of faith by a woman named LINDA.  He was scheduled to speak at a crusade in an open stadium where stormy weather threatened the event.  They gathered to pray and most prayed, “If it’s your will God, hold back the rain.” Linda chimed in and prayed, “Lord, Your name is at stake.  We told these people that if they would come out tonight they would hear a word from God.  We told them they would hear from you.  Now, if they come and You let it rain, and You don’t control the weather, then You will look bad. We told them that You wanted to say something to them, and if You don’t keep back what You can control – the weather – someone could say that Your name is no good. Therefore right now I ask in the Name of the Lord Jesus Christ for the rain to stop for the sake of Your Name!”  Despite reports that heavy thunderstorms were coming right at them, Linda sat on the stage, not with an umbrella, as others were, but with a confident look of expectation instead.  Tony goes on to report, “The rain rushed toward the stadium like a wall of water. Yet when it hit the stadium it split.  Half of the rain went on one side of the stadium. The other half went on the other side.  Then it literally met on the other side of the stadium.”  All the while, Linda had sat there with a confident look on her face. 

Linda’s confident belief backed up her bold prayer.  That’s what I want!  I want me some LINDA FAITH! (Can you hear the child tantrum within me?) I want to sit confidently before the storm and refuse to take an umbrella because even though I see the storm menacingly approaching, I can KNOW The Lord won’t let it rain because of my UNWAVERING belief, because of my PERSISTENT belief, because of my WILLFUL belief! And even if it doesn’t happen and I am WRONG, I’d rather be wrong TRUSTING Jesus, than be right in doubt.  I’d rather please God than be surprised by Him.  Because according to OUR FAITH it will be done (Matthew 9:29) and without OUR FAITH it is impossible to please God! (Hebrews 11:6)

To my many friends who have the Spiritual Gift of faith, thank you for your example; thank you for being Linda’s in my life.  To The Northside Community Church thank you for helping me see God in a bigger way; Your FAITH ASTOUNDS ME!

http://store.tonyevans.org/p-430-kingdom-woman.aspx

Dancing Barb

This post is about a very dear friend who succumbed to cancer last December.  I penned these words in my journal as a letter to her, and then later shared them with her husband.  With his consent I now share them with you.  Barb’s life was an incredible witness of living Jesus out loud.  She inspires me to choose joy and to share God’s love no matter how I feel.

Dear Barb,

I so admire your love for God and your radiant reflection of Him to the world.  I remember many of the amazing things you did and your impact on others, but there was this one time that really punctuated your selfless, carefree, loving-life attitude.

We were with Northside Community Church at Navy Pier for a ladies night out.  There was an area with a DJ and most of the ladies were having a blast on the dance floor.  I secured one of the few open spots to sit and saved you a seat.  You danced a little but your meds caused your legs and feet to burn and hurt, so you didn’t last long.  You weren't visibly uncomfortable but I could see your smile ended a bit prematurely as you interacted with the other ladies.  So, while you didn’t want to take the seat I patted beside me, you were grateful for the bit of horizontal space in a very crowded area. 

As we sat and watched the ladies having a loud, fun time, a gentleman who appeared to be homeless began dancing off to our right, away from the main body of dancers.  You of course noticed him.  You have a special radar for those outside the graces of civil society.  So, what do you do? Even wracked with pain, you rise and join him dancing.  You complete the picture – bringing what would be considered odd and sad; a dirty, shabbily dressed man dancing off to the side by himself, into the beautiful picture of a man dancing with a lady.  He was delighted and his face lit up with fun.  You were absolutely glowing!  Despite the pain and the fact that your legs weren't working well, you were lighting up the dance floor. 

I marveled at your determination to be joyful over succumbing to the clutches of pain that latched on to your legs and feet, trying their best to keep you in your seat.  But they never stood a chance!  And when our eyes met as you did a slow turn that involved many careful baby steps, you assured me that you were having a ball and that this man was the biggest blessing of your day! 

Oh Barb, you are one of the rare ones who receive even more blessings by giving blessings.  I think that sums up who you grew to be in Christ.  You were purposeful with your life – which was to live on purpose for Christ.  Because of the hope we have in Him we are assured a seamless transition when we die, but frankly there was no transition for you in spirit on December 4^th, because you were living eternal life as soon as you loved your Savior.  The truth Barb, is that you have not skipped a beat.  While everyone has wonderful stories of you dancing, your real story is about looking for and finding opportunities to share the love of Christ, as best as you could, with those around you. 

Most of our times together weren't dancing, they were girlfriend times experiencing life together as women and mothers.  We contemplated God’s mysteries, questioned His thinking, praised His graciousness, trusted His timing, and loved His mercy.  Your choice to love life despite your fate is proof to me that choosing Jesus is the only way to make that possible.  You lived out Philippians 4:8,

Whatever is TRUE

Whatever is NOBLE

Whatever is RIGHT

Whatever is PURE

Whatever is LOVELY

Whatever is ADMIRABLE –

If anything is EXCELLENT

Or praiseworthy,

THINK about such things.

Barb that is what you did in life.  That is what everyone saw and was in awe of.  I celebrate you and your choice to live out Jesus. And for all the blessings you received by blessing others, may you have an endless supply of crowns to cast at the feet of our spectacular Savior, now that you are gloriously face to face with Him. 

In my mind I see your glowing smile as you danced with that man at Navy Pier and I know just what you look like now dancing with the God, who became man, so we all might know His full blessing.  Thank you Barb for living and loving graciously.  I have been profoundly blessed by you…. Here’s another crown dear, aim well for me!

Love Karyn~ 

Share if you care & follow me on Twitter @karynhumphries

The Cafeteria Lady

There was a woman who was in my life for less than 5 minutes. She said no more than 8 words, she never told me her name and she remains faceless in my mind to this very day, but she profoundly impacted me in a way that has shaped who I am today. 

This powerful experience happened when I was in college.  I was pretty full of myself and fueled by grandiose plans for a prestigious future.   One day during lunch I carried my food tray to a table that a cafeteria worker was wiping down.  I felt sorry for this woman as she bent over the table at such a menial task, so I decided to brighten her day. 

As I said, I barely remember what she looked like; I can only remember that her face was really weathered and framed by the tight curled coiffure of a “wash & set”. The deep lines around her eyes revealed too many years of hard work.  She wore an unfashionable blue work smock, and white orthopedic shoes.  (Hard work and no fashion…, I didn’t think anyone should be so cursed!)

I sat down, smiled and complimented how well she did her job.  Without a pause, or indication that she sensed my pity, she graciously responded, “Everything I do, I do for the Lord.”  I think she may have removed a track from her smock pocket, placed it down on my tray before she smiled and moved off to another table, but honestly I was too stunned to even notice or reply.  I sat there watching her make her way to the next table with my mouth ajar, stunned at such a regal response.  It was truly beautiful and I was speechless. You can ask anyone who knows me and you will find that I am seldom rendered speechless! 

At that time in my life I had never thought that everything or even any little thing I did, could be for the

Lord.  My mind turned over this incomprehensible thought a dozen times before I internalized the truth.  It didn’t matter if I were wiping tables or running a fortune 500 business, as long as I gave Him the glory, there was no difference in His eyes. 

Her message and powerful witness was a gift that changed the path of my life.  It gave me confidence as a young woman in the workplace, my sanity as a mother and, to this day, no excuses.  I wish I knew who my cafeteria lady was so that I could thank her, but God knows and I have confidence that He’ll re-unite us in heaven where I won’t notice what she’s wearing, but rather  I’ll notice the beauty that I overlooked all those years ago.

Don't Call Me Religious

In a conversation with a co-worker many years ago, she described me as religious and I found myself deeply offended.  She didn’t accuse me of it, or even compliment me of it; it was part of a deeper conversation surrounding death, illness and suffering.  She just sort of made note of it.

I was initially thrown for a loop.  As a child, having been raised in what I call a culturally religious family, I performed sacraments that were empty and meaningless.  I adhered to doctrine that I didn’t understand and I never, ever cracked open a Bible.  I knew who Jesus was, kind of, but I knew more about rituals and liturgies than about His righteousness and love.

The insufficiency of religion is what propelled my spiritual walk, and for that I am grateful.  So after years of seeking, accepting and learning about Christ, when my friend called me religious, it hit an old nerve.  I surprised myself by responding with calm conviction that I didn’t consider myself religious at all, that I had chosen faith as a life-style instead of religion. Faith that includes a church, the Bible and a relationship with Jesus Christ.

Please don’t misunderstand me; I am not bashing any church or denomination.  I am criticizing my own empty, uneducated, spiritual condition that was going through the motions, but wanting more. With Easter approaching, I think of the many church attenders who will hear only liturgy instead of love, and may know of Jesus, but don’t really know Him.  I ache for those who know that there is more and I want to give you assurance that there is! 

Easter is a beautiful celebration, without it you can’t have Christmas.  The birth of baby Jesus is meaningless without the resurrection of the (divine) man.  Andy Stanley says, “It wasn’t the teachings of Jesus that sent His followers into the streets, it was His resurrection.”    I Corinthians 15 reports that after His death Jesus appeared to more than 500 people, in the flesh.  In that passage the Apostle Paul says that if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile.  I am by no means a scholar, but I don’t know of any other spiritual teacher/leader who did not meet with a final, mortal death. Jesus says to Thomas in John 20:27-29, “Put your finger here; see my hands.  Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.” People, this really happened; it isn’t a fairy tale, a folk lore or a piece of fictional fantasy.  I choose to trust the guy who conquered death; I choose to give my faith to the one who loved me that much!

Jesus’ sacrificial death is not only proof of God’s love for us, but the invitation of eternal life (made possible by… ta da… the resurrection!).  Back in I Corinthians 15 Paul writes in verse 19, If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are to be pitied more than all men. This point drives deep into my heart.  How sad is it if Jesus’ teachings are only a coping mechanism for me in this life, with no promise for tomorrow?  There is so much hope beyond today and there is so much power that is available to me through the work of the cross, really!  I live this out in the minutia of my days as well as in the mess of tragedy.  More importantly, many others, besides the Disciples, died for this truth.

I know I sound religious, but I’m not!  I’m in love and I am deeply loved back.  This love gives my faith carte blanche, this love attracts my obedience and this love endures even when I doubt.  This love is bigger than my insecurities, my insufficiency and my iniquities.  I celebrate this love this Easter in sacraments that are now filled with beautiful meaning because I understand the cost, the love and the victory that makes eternity available through the resurrection; a very real and historical event.

I love how Jesus, in another conversation with Thomas, addresses eternity.

“I am going there to prepare a place for you.  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you with me that you also may be where I am.  You know the way to the place where I am going.” 

Thomas said to him, “Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?” 

Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life.  No one comes to the Father except through me… Believe me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; or at least believe on the evidence of the miracles themselves.”

(John 14:2-6, 11)

This Easter, I believe afresh in the miracle of the resurrection that opens the door to eternal life. This incredible piece of history inspired the Disciples and continues to inspire great works of faith in all of us who believe.   I don’t think religion did this, I think Jesus Christ did.  I will take relationship over religion any day!  I revel in the reality of the resurrection – the cross is bare, the tomb is empty and our Savior lives! Join me this Easter in really celebrating this incredible truth~ 

PONDER - The kitchen table

PONDER: verb, 1. to consider deeply; meditate. 2. to weigh carefully in the mind. – Syn. 1. Reflect, cogitate, deliberate, ruminate.

Witness & Ponder came about because I wanted to share pictures of Christ moving in others (Witness) and deep thoughts that make me wonder, question and ultimately affirm the life of grace that I have chosen in Christ (Ponder). 

My last post portrayed my personal witness; this post cracks open the door of my mind, which can be a beautiful, yet scary place.  It is a disparate land of lush contemplation and spiritual inspiration that cohabitates with scattered thoughts, notions, judgments and fears.  In order for pondering to take seed, every aspect of my brain needs to harmonize in order to sprout anything of value.  Otherwise day dreams would reign without reason, fears would frolic without divine assurances, and fragmented thoughts would never have a home. 

To ponder is a gift of a surplus sight, it is a discipline, but mostly it is the beauty of a visceral thought that won’t let you go until you search out its destiny. The latter has been mostly my experience – I can’t boast in discipline; I can only boast in the blessed earnestness of the Holy Spirit. 

To be able to ponder something in this day and age is a challenge with all the distractions of life snatching away any focus I can muster.  The noise of life alone bombards my senses; like elusive, hovering gnats, that return to annoy you no matter how many times you swipe at them. (Nature’s noise is the exception here).   You know what I’m talking about, life: TV, kids, pets, cell phone, neighbor’s radio, traffic, grinding breaks of the garbage truck…. all the way down to the hearty din of my own disjointed thoughts!

But there are times when something will capture my attention enough that I need to lower the volume of life in order to attend to it.  It is here, in my pondering, that revelation and inspiration are born.  It is a profound process that reaps interesting results.  I don’t always get answers, but I experience the beauty of the process because the process always includes God.  The internet can provide all the information I may need, but knowledge falls short of comfort, insight, transformation and meaning. 

For many years my inspiration for “pondering” has been Mary, the mother of Jesus.  Here you have a young girl who chooses to ponder her circumstances, rather than freak out, complain, deny or run away.  But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.  (Luke 2:19).  I know she had personal visits from an angel to assure her, but think about that for a second – she could have freaked out, complained, denied, or ran away then too!  An uncommon teenager, facing uncommon circumstances, who chose to plumb the depths of her situation with God and ultimately chose uncommon trust.  Yeah, I think she was one incredible young gal!

You don’t need life shaking circumstances to ponder; you can ponder anywhere - at least I do.  Sometimes I’ll look at something; like my new, handcrafted kitchen table and take a moment to acknowledge the people who imagined it, created it and assembled it in order for my family to eat on it and serve on it.  Then I look around my kitchen and imagine how overflowing it would be if the people who had imagined, created and assembled everything in it were standing there.  Suddenly my kitchen has new meaning and gratitude flows.

So, I invite you to ponder with me. Bring God into your thoughts for His truths, let Jesus reign over your fears and allow The Holy Spirit to usher your fragmented thoughts to a place of new meaning and gratitude.  Mary did it; we can too. 

The Beginning - The Marble Block

My story begins with a telling tale about a woman’s relationship with God at a pivotal stage in life.  It started a journey into a spectacular realm of love and grace with irrevocable changes.  Below is just a portion of this tale, which occurred decades ago. Some of you may have already heard my Marble Block story, but I thought it would be a fitting beginning to a blog dedicated to witnessing and pondering the grace of God.   Even though this is my story, it could really be yours.  The circumstances in our lives may be different, but the hand of God sculpts each of us, as long as we are willing. Whatever your circumstances, whether in joy or pain, my prayer is that you are willing. THE MARBLE BLOCK When I had my first child something strange happened in my life.  It wasn't the obvious “new addition to the family” transition, but rather an internal adventure to rival that of Alice in Wonderland.  It was as if someone had placed a gigantic block of marble on my lawn, right out in front of my house.  The monstrosity was an immense, rough-hewn, piece of rock with intricate veins that swirled throughout.  It wasn’t exactly a sight of beauty, in fact it looked quite the eye sore and I was bothered that my neighbors were all privy to it.  I figured in some way or another this had to do with motherhood.  After all I had had no formal training in the field of parenting.  So I decided to go to some of the experts to get some advice on how to handle my marble block.   The Grandmas were first.  I asked them, “What should I do with it?”  Each one handed me a chisel and instructed me to use it on the marble.  So for the first few months and into the first year I chipped away at the solid, dense piece.  It was a difficult job, keeping me up most nights with sleepy rituals of guesswork that spilled into my confused days.  Feeling unfulfilled with my progress I went in search of more answers. Next it was the doctors.  They could only offer me a hammer, but combined with my chisels I felt I was making progress.  Although, it wasn't long before my frustration grew. I hadn't even breached past six inches of the massive rock.  It was looking worse than when it first appeared on my lawn.  I was feeling embarrassed that all my neighbors could see my slow, pitiful progress.  I was, after all, an educated woman with a keen sense of order and propriety.  I’d met every other challenge in my life successfully; why was this so difficult?   Then, through a network of other mothers more resources came to me.  I attended seminars, read books and shared sculpting techniques with others that had discovered the same big rock outside their door when motherhood arrived.  I acquired better tools - power tools that rivaled my husband’s.  My buffing technique had improved but still the marble wasn't glistening.  I became discouraged as I compared myself to other mothers who seemed to sculpt effortlessly.  I grew tired of the constant chore of picking up after it.  Its dusty shards and slivers were a nuisance.  There were even times, when in error I had chiseled too much and marred a limb or two of the emerging image from the stone.  I would become sad and disillusioned then stop for a while.  Although when I began again, because of some inspiration, I became so engrossed that I sometimes created a hazardous environment with all the debris.  Through the years a form had begun to take shape, which inspired hope.  Yet I still couldn’t master the technique that would bring the rock to life, give it its shine, or display its glory.   I discovered that there was a piece to the puzzle that was missing.  I had searched out family, friends, physicians, educators, professionals and my peers but I hadn’t explored the church.  Now the church didn’t give me any additional tools, but it did give me a manual.  From the hand of the creator Himself, came tips that inspired more than just hope, they instilled a purpose.  Suddenly each and every stroke, chip and buff had meaning.  I was given this rock for a reason.  Most of the time I moaned and complained about how unfulfilling it was to tend but I realized that all along someone counted on me to complete it.  There even came a day when I realized that I was actually enjoying myself.  What had begun as a chore had developed into a labor of love.   With habitual care and attention the figure within the rock began to reveal itself to me, and the more I saw, the more I wanted to see.  What was so important that God would want me to invest most of my life attending to?  Limb by limb the figure almost appeared to be bursting from the captivity of the cold, hard rock.  I could see that my toils, tears and triumphs were meant to liberate it.  With one more cut into the stone, the visage appeared and knocked me off my feet in shocked surprise.  I couldn’t believe it…. The image was of me!   At first this made no sense at all but upon closer examination I understood.  It was the promise of what I could become for God by being a mother to my children, a wife to my husband, a daughter to my parents, a sister to my siblings, a friend to my loved ones and a woman of God to the world. Within that cold block of marble was a child of God waiting to emerge.  It was I. It is I.  It is who God intends for me to be. My work is far from done.  There are whole portions of rock that still cling to my form. There are scars that still have to be buffed out. There are dull portions that have to be shined up. But I still have my manual and it tells me that all that is expected of me is faith.  So I keep working.  Now I bring every shard and chunk of marble to God.  He quietly takes all I have to give and doesn’t expect perfection.  All He wants is for me to love Him with all my heart, all my soul, all my mind and all my strength.  It’s the least I can do for the price of freedom, the debt that was paid by His son, Jesus, for me.   I found God’s truth for me within my Marble Block.  When I was encapsulated in the world’s cold, dark, dank perceptions and expectations of myself, I never got to see what God really saw.  He gave me the means to discover who He wanted me to be when I became a mother.  God freed me from taking ownership of what I believed were the world’s expectations of motherhood.  He took my inability to find satisfaction and fulfillment in that role and showed me that no matter how good I was at it, He wouldn't love me any more - and no matter how bad I was at it, He wouldn’t love me any less.  In His eyes I was a lot more than the poor mother that I was in my own eyes.  I became a better mother once I realized that I would never be the perfect mother with perfect children.   The joy in this freedom was born out of a lot of pain.  My potential as a mother is continually realized through God’s grace.  His grace removes the fence of expectations between myself & Him and myself & the world.   It is grace alone that allows us to honestly accept the ‘who I am’ in each of us.  It is that grace that transforms the ‘who I am’ into what God intended all along.  It is only with His grace that I am able to truly live this life!