“I don’t want to be a servant — I want to be a Caroline.”
So says the three year old wonder-child who humbles me as a parent and makes me think deeper about life.
I want to be a Caroline.
That’s confidence, isn’t it? And freedom?
I love that about my girl; she hasn’t learned yet to try and be anything but who she is.
She doesn’t know that one day she’ll feel the pressure to be good enough, to be holy enough, to be quiet enough, or wise enough or all the “enough’s” that fill our head and make us neurotic about who we are and how we should live.
The “enough’s” make me tired.
And I think they make a lot of us are real tired, because in all the enough’s we begin to lose ourselves in order to be something else…something better…something expected…so far from who we really are that when we fall apart, we just give up.
Because something has to give.
And we all fall apart.
But here comes the upside, the so unbelievably bright side: when you are just done, and broken, and tired, you’ve made it.
You are now about to experience the most profound, amazing, life-altering, freedom and grace that will set you so free you are going to fly.
I mean it.
I mean it.
When you are broken enough and tired enough and angry enough that you just can’t mold yourself, fix yourself, do better, be better, when you are just done, grace is lavished on you like nothing you’ve ever experienced.
The world opens up and humility surrounds you and compassion overtakes you because you realize that life is just so hard and “everyone is facing a hard battle”, and instead of trying to be kind, you just become kind.
And you become grace to others.
Because that’s what the Spirit does in a broken beautiful one: He does the work, you just accept the molding.
You walk, one foot in the front of the other by the faith that gives you the hope you are already changed, perfect (Hebrews 10:14) according to heaven.
And when you realize how much you can’t change yourself, you can see others as broken beautiful ones as well who are just trying to make it through this hard life, and you just want to love them and nod your head at them and say, “I know, I know. And I love you just the same.”
Funny, what happens when you stop trying so hard to become what you already are in Christ; you begin to exhibit the things you were trying so hard to do. I’ll tell you why: it’s because you really get love, and you really get loving God and loving others, and you so deeply get grace. When the Law of loving slays you good, you can do nothing but love.
You still make messes and wound hearts and say stupid things, but you never stop loving and extending grace, because it’s all over you now.
And you don’t have to choose between being a servant or who you are — because you are both, in one, in One.
So come on, my broken, beautiful sister, and let’s walk side-by-side, not checking to see who is ahead or behind, or who seems to have it together, or who seems to really not have it together at all.
Let’s stop looking around and look up, and walk forward, and trust the One who does the molding in us all.
This post originally appeared on A Holy Experience.