I've found grace in a most beautiful place. Once or twice a month I sing in our church band. We're an eclectic group... ranging in age from about 13 to 50's. We have varying degrees of ability in instruments. And its one place and a group of people who simply accept and welcome me, and my little crowd, with nothing but love and care.
I've sung with them when I've been 9 months pregnant (I've had three babies while being part of it), juggling a 3 month baby, interrupting the practice to take a child to the toilet, breastfeeding, burping, changing the baby, all while the music keeps going. They don't blink an eye when the baby cries, the toddler tantrums or the preschoolers get into a fight over a guitar (classic story, will tell you later). I'm usually dashing in late, having managed to get everyone somewhat organised and out the door. As well as buggy, nappy bag, lunches boxes and four children I am usually carrying a BLT bagel from McD's next door and a Coke Zero, because I can never seem to get it together enough to sit down and eat breakfast (if Mummy sits down its a sign that we're on go-slow mode so nothing happens lol).
If anything, a band can be a place where high expectations have to be met. You can't afford to be the weakest link if you want things to sound good. But for our group, we still sound pretty good but most importantly, we are very real. My band colleagues accept me, literal baggage and all.
I don't remember ever being told about grace. A lot of my teen and early adult life was striving for a goal of perfection in Christ. Of keeping all the rules, whether it be the music I listened to, the books I read, the things I did and people I spent time with. It was, sadly, all on my own strength, as if I needed to do these things to be acceptable to God and if I failed then I have to repent and try harder next time.
When I discovered grace I felt a wee bit angry and hurt that no one had told me about it before. Sure it might have been implicit in many things but no one said to me that it was okay to just be me. That in my weak imperfection all I had to do was to love and follow Jesus and it would work out. It is in that submission to God that the burden of not being good enough is eased and suddenly I can do the things that I want to do... and any changes I make are out of a desire to be more like Christ - through Christ - and not through my own strength and striving. There is no longer any fear in failure, fear of punishment. I am free through grace.
I was talking to a family friend years ago, maybe it was after D was born. She said something that i've not forgotten. That when you have your first child, you get one child grace. Have another and you get two child grace and so on. It is through God's endless grace that I can get up and do what I need to do, want to do, have to do and know that whether I do it great or not, I am still loved and redeemed by God. It doesn't stop me from striving, but the striving is now in partnership with God, not something I am doing to earn my place. I've let go of the rules that I thought I had to follow to find that change becomes easier as I stop trying and failing to do it by myself.
When C was born, our first girl, we added Grace to her name. For me, that name is a representative of my journey into grace, passed onto the next generation.
