I feel like I’ve spent the last few years unlearning God.
I cobbled together a picture of who he was, and I was wrong.
I wrote my own rules and expectations and crooked, invisible clauses for his love.
And one by one, he is stripping them away.
Recently, I’ve wrestled with the reality that, though I write about grace publicly, I privately believe grace is something that must be earned.
His love is not a gift, it’s a wage.
His forgiveness is not a treasure, it’s a paycheck.
His grace is not a present, it’s a reward.
The God of my yesteryears called me to his will because that was the only arena in which I could earn his affection for a day. Grace was elusive and temporary. Disappearing in the face of my sin faster than snow in the face of the sun.
I was the worse employee in God’s company. He had plans for me, but I kept finding ways to mess them up. I was forever on the verge of getting fired from his team for my complete and utter incompetence.
That is what I used to think, but the God of today is making that hard to believe anymore.
So I’ve been writing small reminders. Gingerbread size notes as I continue walking back home. Here’s one I stuck on my computer the other day.
I hope if you’re unlearning God, too, that this note will serve as a simple reminder of his love.