Return to Grace

Yesterday I went on Facebook trying to find a very old post that contained a recipe. An innocent enough task. I scrolled through my news feed, looking for the recipe I asked for help with a long time ago. I never found it. Never found the thing I planned to get, but what I found was bittersweet. I found who I was a couple years ago. I found the joyful positive person that posted funny things her kids said, Bible verses that still jumped off the page and screamed of His peace and joy, I found grateful posts, pictures of my family. It was a wonderful. It was the equivalent of looking through picture albums when I was growing up. Remembering the forgotten times. It also opened my eyes and my heart to where I have drifted. You see some things have not worked out as I thought they would over the last couple of years. Plans I had planned not fulfilled. In the meantime, I have drifted. My joy less joyful. My gratitude a little more forced. My heart a little less soft. My life a little more robotic.

God can use anything to draw you to Him and yesterday I got the wake up call on Facebook of all places. Using my own words, my own testimony, my own journey.

I am grateful that I could see it. Today, I am sitting in my home with a rare day off from work and I want to document the change so I pulled up this old blog to type out my heart. Yesterday's lesson was clear. I had gone prodigal. Slowly. Still going through the motions. Still teaching and praying and reading but my heart. That place I rarely show to anyone. It was prodigal.

A call to repentance, head bowed, heart humbled, softly whispering. I see, Lord. Your grace is amazing and I can't believe I let it slide away. Thanks for reaching me in the place I am. I am sorry for my selfishness.

New mercies this morning open my life to my heart change. Reading words that are familiar but seem so new. Mark 14:1-9 The woman and the alabaster jar of expensive perfume. Oh the sacrifice. A woman's most precious possession, broken and poured out for Jesus.

My heart rumbles and turns. Jesus didn't ask to be anointed. He did not require the sacrifice as a condition of being in His presence. She was compelled. Drawn by a love that was unfamiliar to her and compelled to move, to act, to give and to show her love. It was extravagant. It was bold. It was even criticized by those who were good followers of Christ. Still she moved and broke and gave.

Jesus' words are not lost on my softening heart. She heard the others gasp at the waste. Gasp at her boldness. Jesus defends her and her gift to him. "Leave her alone". "She has done what she could". Oh, have I, sweet Lord? Have I chosen the good thing? Have I done what I could? No. Not lately.

Thank you for the revelation and the blessings. You say that wherever the Good News is preached, her deed will be remembered and talked about. Her gift, her extravagant deed, her broken vessel. My broken vessel, my heart and life poured out like perfume for you? Yes, Lord. I hear that call. Let my life, prayers and thoughts be a sweet perfume of You. Amen.