Who me?

Who me?

My husband’s Bible recently fell into the toothy grasp of our 4½-month-old puppy. He chewed around the edges of the leather, chomped and tore out a few pages, and scattered its parts around the living room.

When I got home, my husband handed me the dog-gnawed book and said, “Well, Barney has abridged my Bible.”

As a believer, I’m often tempted to do the same—chew around the edges of Scripture, tearing out passages that are too challenging and chewing and spitting out others. Some portions I swallow whole and un-chewed.

Abridged BibleBut I’m not really allowed to do any of that—not if I’m a disciple of Christ.

Love your enemy. Pray for those who use you. Walk the second mile. Give to those who ask. Forgive. Don’t throw stones at sinners. Invite them to dinner. Defy the culture. Talk to the woman at the well as you pass through a country where people hate you.

I hoped I could just be forgiven and drive on, enjoying this life at no great cost to myself. But it doesn’t work like that. When I follow Christ, it is for the whole journey—the rough, the easy, and the impossible—including death to myself and perhaps death to my own body.

I prefer uncomplicated grace—easy, willy-nilly grace that doesn’t seem to demand too much.

But real grace is a grace that expects and is able to do impossible things. It encounters racial and worship differences with a radical longing for unity and love. It prays over desperate situations when all hope seems gone. It returns good for evil. It travels across the world to bring hope and physical healing. It chooses to offer forgiveness and prayer to a man who walks into your church and kills your mother and eight other church members while they are praying.

Real grace pursues justice and righteousness together. Truth and love are breathed simultaneously. Hatred is not in our vocabulary, except when we say we hate our sin. Love is the chief thing. To love God and others sums up the law, Jesus said. But how do I hold truth and love in my hands together without confusion or compromise? I don’t know, but I must try—by God’s grace.

An unabridged life doesn’t tear out the hard parts of Scripture. In an unabridged life, I agree to accept the cost and run against the current—not self-righteously, but with hopeful humility. I know that this weird life of love and truth will be misunderstood and that I will get it wrong—most of the time. My sin will rise. I will be prideful or unkind or unwise. I will judge others rather than love them, because I don’t know how to balance holiness and grace like Christ. I won’t love God with my whole heart or others as myself. I will also fail to ask for forgiveness when I should. I will stumble in all these respects and more.

Part of me wants an effortless abridged life. Part of me wants easy. But another part dares to dream and believe for impossible things, like redemption coming though our acts of sacrificial kindness, forgiveness and love—like in Charleston.

That’s what I want way down deep. I want an unabridged, supernatural life—one where I don’t tear out ANY pages.

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6 Responses to Abridged

  1. lisa says:

    Amazing Linda. Simply amazing. Every time you post something I think it’s my absolute favorite. Crazy deep, crazy soulful, crazy good. Love you! Lisa >

  2. Laura Royal says:

    Wow, Linda, thanks for reminding us what we are called to do and how to live. I want easy too, but posts like this make me want something deeper more than something easy.

  3. artechoes says:

    I admit; I vacillate. However, when I see redemption coming from hard-beautiful choices like in Charleston, I am challenged to believe he gives these commands for a glorious (if sometimes painful) purpose. His kingdom is unlike this one on earth. The winds of the Spirit blow in a different direction from the tides of culture and the world. Christ help us lift our sails and navigate these waters in faith. He does, after all, have the words of eternal life.

  4. Laurie Flayhart says:

    Oh Linda–I finally read it and I had just posted a “state of my heart” to my battle group and this echoed what I shared! I loved the analogy and stated earlier to my gals: I don’t want to be flat stanley(I’ll explain later if you are not familiar)! I want to be a woman of deep waters and faith. Laurie in living, loving color with surround sound empowered by the Spirit. And to become that person I have to keep on surrendering ALL THE TIME. My stinking will and flesh are so strong. But God is MORE and ABLE! I struggle to press the easy button all the time. War is being waged right now. I am sharing this with my group in hopes of stirring them, encouraging them. It most certainly is life giving to me! Thank you for your labor of love. Thank you for standing firm. So much (and many) are at stake if you/we do not. I am needy. Come Lord Jesus!!!! Amen!

    Love you,


  5. artechoes says:

    Thanks, Laurie. We need to encourage one another while it is still day–while we have breath and life and liberty. We don’t know if we have the next hour. May we stay alert and be faithful.
    I’d like to hear about flat Stanley. 🙂

  6. ruthie050573 says:

    Oh wow! So very beautifully said. This stirs my heart deeply and challenges me to more. Love you friend. 💜

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