It seems to me that hope is more threatening than fear.
It’s easy to cling to the selves we can hate and control and punish. It’s easy to write yourself off: I’m ‘stupid’ or ‘fat’ or ‘useless’ or ‘clumsy’. To listen to the voices that you challenge in your friends. I’m too old. It’s too late. I’m afraid.
But what’s really frightening isn’t the possibility that we are bad. It’s that we could be really good. Not a burden – but a blessing. Not someone who needs to be smaller: someone who takes up space and is not ashamed. Someone who gives.
Imagine you are that person. What would they do? What would they say?
How would you relate to others? The guy in the supermarket. The woman pushing in front of you on the bus. Your parents, your boss, your friends.
You have nothing to prove and nothing to hide. You are loved. You are accepted. God has put His spirit in you and His power is at work – even in your weakness. He is with you – now – and nothing can snatch you from His hand.
You’re His. Nothing less.
That’s the hardest thing I find to believe….that I am loved and that I am accepted. I just can’t get my head around that, I’m not sure I ever will.
I agree. To me, sin makes sense – but grace is a miracle.