Clumsy Faith

Clumsiness has been a disease that has plagued me my entire life. I’ve always been one to err on the side of caution because I know that one unfortunate misstep could quite literally mean the death of me; or at least spell excruciating pain. Grace has always been something which eluded me; ever in sight yet beyond my reach and far outside my physical capability to grasp. I cannot stride into a room without bumping the doorframe, cannot walk on a sidewalk without tripping over every single crack, cannot pick up a glass without it sliding from my hand, and cannot even bring my coffee to the counter without spilling it all over the poor, unfortunate cashier. But there is more than one meaning for Grace, and naturally, I speak of both.

For quite some time, the concepts of Grace and Faith seemed beyond my understanding and too far beyond the parameters of what I could ever possibly reach; out there with my dream of walking through the library and NOT slipping and falling on the wet floor in front of dozens of people. Grace was a concept, an idea, an idea that was not possible for humanity to attain. Us, washed up in our own filth, covered in mud because we continually fall, time and time again. Grace was not possible. And I certainly believed that kind of Grace was not possible for me either; as far away from me as its other definition.

Though I felt that there was something inherently broken in humanity, I never believed that there was anything that could be done to fix it.  I couldn’t reconcile my own failings with the fact that Christ had given His life for my own sake and had extended forgiveness for them; but not only for me, but the whole of humanity. Yet terrible things continued to exist in the world and in me, and for years I believed that disproved the validity of Christ’s actions, and perhaps even His existence altogether. I simply couldn’t believe that anything I did or anything that anyone else did could warrant the kind of forgiveness that Christ extended. We don’t deserve it.

It wasn’t until I stumbled into church, was blind-sided by the kind and caring people I met there and crashed headlong into Christ himself, that I dropped all my preconceived notions, prejudices, and fears. Much to my surprise, it turned out that my stumbling ways were what got me to Grace in the first place. It is because we are broken, fallen and stumbling that God extends His love and forgiveness to us. We wouldn’t be His children if we were anything else. The realization hit me like a wave when I read in 2 Corinthians 12: 7-10 that:

“Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me.8 Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me.9 But he said to me, "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.10 That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

 My weakness makes me strong because it brings me to God and makes me accept the forgiveness and love that has been extended. Every time I trip and fall to my knees, I know that is the safest place to be. For God will certainly pick me up, dust me off, and set me on my feet again. By walking confidently, and knowing full well that I am certain to trip and fall on my face, I also walk with the confidence that there are guiding and protective hands waiting to help me up when I do.

I will never achieve perfect Grace, I cannot say that I will never go bumping into another wall or will never again drop my tray in the middle of the cafeteria, just as I can never say that I will not find doubt in my faith or be tempted by the ways of the world. But even in my imperfection, I know Grace surrounds me and keeps me safe from far worse things that, on my own, I would certainly walk bumbling into. It is through our mistakes, our blunders, even our regrets that God will continually be most present. We are not perfect people and we never will be. But letting our own chaos sing out as a chorus, God will be able to reclaim us as His own.