If you have joined me for the last two brick posts, you know that I apparently have an affinity for brick walls. Running into them, being buried under them, and even carrying them around in my memory. Some seem permanently attached to me. How about you? Do you ever feel like you’re carrying a tremendous weight around? Weight from the past. Weight from the present. Weight that if you would just trust what God tells you over and over again, you would be miraculously lighter? I’m there with you sister!
My Grandmother was an amazing woman in my life. In the midst of turmoil, Dad’s verbal abuse of Momma and me, and my continual feelings of being out of control and afraid, Gram was the one who always made me feel safe. I have beautiful memories of spending nights at her house, and the smell of popcorn popping on the stove. Often times muddled with popcorn burning on the stove. To this day I love the smell of burnt popcorn because it floods me with sweet memories.
Gram was the garage sale queen. Back when I was just a kid, she would take the classified section of the paper and map out our path for Saturday garage sale. We must have driven thousands of miles over the years looking for bargains. We frequented a pancake house that made the edges of the pancakes crisp, and the cake thin. Gram’s favorite, and to this day, mine. We visited The Dog House, a small 1950’s dinner that hadn’t found it’s way into the 1970’s. Hot dogs, hamburgers, and pie. We always had to have pie to chase down the greasy burger or dog and fries. Gram took me to church every Sunday, and any other chance she could get. I can’t remember a time in my childhood when she didn’t…until I was old enough to drive and work. That’s when I lost sight of God. Gram taught me to serve others, she taught me to love, and she taught me that trust and that emotional comfort was possible.
Gram was the person who when the you’re nots became too heavy for me, would brush my hair from my eyes. She hated my hair in my eyes. She would tell me what a pretty girl I was. She told me that God loved me. She showed me how much she loved me. She reminded me many times in my teen years and as a young bride that God had a plan for my life. Gram also talked a lot about mercy. I always thought that she needed mercy to keep from beating my wild child uncle, who is just 11 years my senior. I think that was probably part of it, but I also know now that many of her proclamations of “mercy” were asking God for his. I never realized it until I started to work at breaking down the bricks in my life that each time Gram requested mercy, God provided it. Even until the end of her life, I believe God was merciful to her.
God also provided me mercy. There were many times as a I faced the teen years that I felt like I should disappear, and that my life didn’t matter. I felt weak, imperfect, unloveable, unintelligent, ugly, and so unworthy of a good life. By 15 I had started working, discovered boys, and started walking away from God. I felt like my life was in constant turmoil. I was embarrassed by my Dad. I started looking for guys who might love me and make me feel complete. Today I look back and wish that younger me had see that 2 Corinthians 12:9, it still remains to be true. God said, “my grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” Decades later see how merciful God was to me. I see how sufficient his grace is…always. I’m thankful that I don’t have to be perfect, because God is perfect enough for both of us. Y’all that’s worth the entire read right there. You don’t have to struggle to be perfect anymore. Nope! Say it with me…”I don’t have to be perfect. God is perfect enough for both of us!”
So here’s the deal. Christ in one verse could totally annihilate my entire load of you’re nots, and clean up all of the dusty remains if only I would trust in him. If only you would trust in him. Jesus Christ has now and forever had the power to remove the stubborn you’re nots from my life and from yours. Why wouldn’t we grasp onto that power? Why don’t we hold onto it for all we are worth?