The Paradise of Grace

INVITATION
Speaking of gifts you can never pay back... In 2002, as Ed and I were healing from a tiring year of loss and illness, good friends asked us to 'rest up' with them for two weeks in the South Pacific. As this trip was 10 times beyond our budget (they desired to gift us), we thought briefly about letting our pride get in the way - but, thankfully, the fun factor won out. It strikes me that surrendering to Grace is a similar concept. Imagine it's you...

APPROACH
In a fluke collapse of all your good reasons and better judgment, you say 'yes' and find yourself floating above what has been made possible by someone else's sacrifice on your behalf. You can see it, but you're not there yet. It's a glimmering jewel in a priceless azure setting. As you descend toward it, tears well up when you realize you've done nothing to deserve this and can do nothing to pay it back. Yet, it is a reality. Try as you might, you simply cannot calculate the difference between what you've earned and what you're being given.

TRANSPORT
After all that's been done for you, surely it's only right that they would offer a canoe or a row boat for this final stretch. It's a short jaunt to your destination, and only fair you should have some part in working your way there. But 'fairness' is not the style of the giver. There's a padded speed boat with spectacular views from every angle. The driver honors you with wreaths of flowers. You are a VIP guest, your passage pre-paid by someone who's gone before you. And sweet air and sunshine brush against your face as you freely ride, propelled by an engine you do not own and cannot fuel.

WELCOME
On the dock, you are warmly greeted by beautiful smiles, warm washcloths for your face and sweet music for your spirit. Then, ushered up a manicured cobble-stone path into an exquisite, castle-looking enclosure where you are seated on comfortable couches and given a colorful, refreshing drink. Your luggage is carefully moved to the bungalow specially prepared for you while care is taken to learn your shoe size, food preferences and other unique details, to best accommodate your recreational and culinary needs. Someone is anticipating how you, specifically, might be offered gifts that lead to your maximum joy.

BELONGING
You are escorted to a luxurious bungalow where you find everything you've ever needed or wanted for rest and fun. A sliding glass door opens to a generous deck and you realize your dwelling is completely over the turquoise, 86 degree water. Through the glass floor beneath the coffee table, there are fish in every color waiting for you to come and play. There are no "NO JUMPING" signs - not that you can see, anyway. Instead of rushing by, the afternoon stretches out as you relax in the sun and discover colors in fish, shells and coral you never thought were possible. Large, friendly stingrays engulf you, and you feel no fear - only joy. You understand that this was created for you to enjoy. Your being able to revel in it was made possible by generosity you cannot afford. This fact makes you feel full - not obligated - because your benefactor takes delight in your fullness.

INHERITANCE
After a long afternoon of play, you explore your surroundings, looking out over the entire island from a specially-created niche at the top. Because there are so few inhabitants, it is as if this place belongs specially to you, in a way. And, in a way, it does - not because you earned it (how could you ever earn such a thing?) - but by the generosity of the giver. He has shared everything with you - what's his is yours, and he's held nothing back. You are there under his name and reservation, and he delights in freely giving you everything that's called 'his'... which IS everything, by the way.

Yes, there are limits to the metaphor (there always are). But it's pretty close, isn't it? What if the recipient were to hang her head in shame saying, "I'm just not good enough. I don't deserve this," cautiously tip-toeing past the bungalows, insisting on sleeping in a storage room for fear of angering the Giver? What would you say to her? Would you want to point that these concerns of hers were missing the point completely? How could you do this without adding to her shame?

Worse, what if she insulted the boat-driver, insisting on a canoe - and upon arriving, exhausted, demanded her heavy luggage, making multiple trips back and forth to the storage room. Tired from hauling her own baggage, crabby and joyless... because she feared the Giver instead of enjoying His gifts? Wouldn't you want to gently explain she's misunderstanding Him and he's dying to really have her KNOW him for who he is?

Worst... what if she never got on the plane in the first place? What if pride over-ruled the fun factor? I've been that slave. No more though... Where are you? Bungalow? Storage room? Watching others board the plane? Anyone wanna go on a trip?