earner to heir, back to earner, then back to heir...

i wrote this awhile back...when i was just being introduced to Him...and it still rings oh so true it was worth a repost:)

come as you are...
"so the invitation said come as you are--but we all know no one really means that, right? so i'm dressed to the hilt. this is an event like no other. i accepted the invitation and here i am--sitting with a feast before me. i'm talkin' linen tablecloth, expensive china, polished silver kind of feast. there is only one thing served at this table--although it's always prepared a different way--so the sweet taste is always savored and could never be considered mundane.

Grace is served at this table.

my Father sits at the head of the table and laughs at my dressy attire but none the less invites me to "eat up". i know He has worked hard to provide this outlandish meal. i know He has sacrificed so much, just so i can sit here--at His table. my soul growls in need and i long to obey it's murmurings and yet...i decide to ignore my hunger pains and take only a few morsels of the faith sustaining substance onto my plate.

i want to be polite. i don't want to need it. i want somehow to be above it. i don't want to take too much. don't want to over-indulge. i am a bit embarrassed by my need. after all i just want to be a polite little christian. i don't want to dig in and behave like the grace starved slob that i really am--that i used to be anyway. i mean what would my Father think? what would those sitting at this table around me think?

as i push the grace around on my plate i find myself embarrassed to be partaking of the meal at all. i seem to think there is some holiness in not having to take much grace here--although He is always trying to tell me otherwise. hey, besides--i'm not quite sure which fork to use anyway. as i awkwardly spoon the meager contents of my plate into my mouth-- my soul hungers for so much more. this all brings back flashbacks of the first time i ate in front of my jr. high boyfriend. so embarrassing, so uncomfortable. yet here i am--with a feast of the only thing that will feed my soul set before me. and yet... and yet... i can't bring myself to enjoy it. there is shame in my need. there is guilt in my soul's satisfaction. i so don't want to take any more...and yet--i crave it. my life needs it to go on. and i look up into my Father's questioning face and attempt to lie to the all-knowing one saying,

"no thanks, i couldn't possibly take any more..."

my lie leaves my insides begging to remember how to humble myself and consume all i need. the sweet aroma of forgivness is too much for me to handle. i can almost taste the mercy to be had at the all-you-can-eat buffet that i originally considered this feast upon first invitation. back in the beginning. back when i attended this party in rags. back when i accepted His gift out of despreate need. as i recollect, in the beginning it wasn't half as difficult to accept His grace--maybe because i was facing the reality of starvation.

why is it any different now?
do i think i've earned this now?
that as a seasoned Christ follower i should be immune to it all?
above it all?
yes, yes and yes. that is exactly it.

come as you are? ha! i can do better than that...