Lent and the miraculous hoax of grace

As we are in our season of Lent at the Gambill house, the theme of grace and mercy are the prevailing marker by which we continue to live. We have chosen to not so much give up things but to give in to God. Give in to His voice, give in to His path without kicking and screaming or complaint.

We are observing gratitude as a necessary part of our lives and stopping in order to make room. I suppose we are though giving up things like negativity, stubbornness, and general attention to anything or anyone that does not aide our following the path that has been set before us.

It’s tough work actually.

Grace can be hard to figure out (not the daughter kind I’m referring to). It’s almost impossible to describe, and it sounds like a lie whenever I try.

Example:

“Why yes, Aaron is hitting everyone and we can’t figure out why.
AND.
Sollie was up half the night puking
AND.
Elizabeth can only eat ice on Tuesdays because if she is allowed to eat ice any old day, she will do it constantly and tear up her gums,
Oh, but it really is ok and I feel deeply grateful that this is my life.”

Sounds a bit crazy. It’s like trying to describe the color purple to a blind man.

Miracles are always a mystery. We depend on miracles everyday around here. We expect them. We very literally can not function without them. How many people can say that about their life?

Sollie has half of his brain. The half he does have has a tunnel through it. Yet… He smiles, he laughs, he loves Sesame Street. He is a miracle. WE get to witness him everyday.

The joy that fills us seems like a hoax. It lures us into a dependence on things that we do not understand and can not control. The hoax really is hidden as only we can see it from the inside. We feel like magicians in a box that seems to our audience as if we cannot escape. From inside however, we can see that we are in no danger, only the perceived kind, which can be the scariest of all if you are not inside the box, but watching from the outside, wondering how we will survive. We know how to control our breathing and remain calm. We know where the built in savior is, our lever to push in order to break free and breathe again.

Our life is in no way trapping us at all, but setting us free. The grace we depend on is something seldom experienced by most people. They replace this grace with self reliance and material security. That is the true hoax. As this kind of security looks great to the audience and is understood. However, it is a box shaped like a coffin, where your soul will surely die.

This grace can only be found by living it. In order to live it, you must give it away. It’s a step of faith that is scary. Just like that magician in the box, it’s a learned process that must be practiced every day, several times per day. If we do not practice this act of depending on grace, we will forget how to get through the day.

We are learning, as we find out Sollie has cerebral pressures, to feel around in the dark, control our worry and find that lever. It doesn’t mean that we are ok all the time. Sometimes we just have to take a moment and mourn that we may have to choose between his life and his sight. We also know that just because we put off a shunt for now does not mean forever, and we will surely face decisions that are hard in the future.

In the quiet of our mourning though is an underlying joy. We get to hear his squealing laugh today. He went on a car ride with his beloved daddy today. He listened to one sister sing his favorite song and another play the piano for him. We are not defeated because we know the lever is there. We have to concentrate to remember where it is and to stay calm. But our God is there, like oxygen and light, giving us what we need when we need it.

We reach out for our savior by rocking Solomon for a little longer, thanking God a little more for him, and expecting our deep breath to come. It will. It always does. Like the magician bursting forth from certain death, if he has practiced, he will not be surprised he has found that lever. He has found it a million times before. He will not suffocate. His life will be spared, not by accident or by chance, but by practice and confidence.

Sometimes we are not saved in the way we wish.

We were not spared from losing Isaac at the age of 6.

We were not spared the disrupted adoption of Daniel after fighting for an entire year.

We were not spared debilitating seizures for Aaron and Malachi.

This world shows no mercy.

What was spared was the most important and impossible thing that this world cannot touch. Our faith is ragged and raw and fierce. Our kind of faith is not well understood, but necessary to live life as it was meant to be lived. It is not born of Sunday school and potlucks. These things are lovely but will not sustain you through seizures and death and fatigue. Only faith that requires you to give everything you have, only to find it is not enough, is worth having. That kind of faith is our faith. It’s the only kind that can illuminate illness and tragedy to gratitude and miraculous grace.

As Easter draws near, ask God for that kind of faith. It only seems a hoax because it is not of this selfish, dark and suffocating world. The truest thing you could ever hope to give up us this Lent is yourself. You will not see the secret from the outside of the box. You have to participate in the hoax, only to find out, that from the inside, it made perfect sense all along.