Of Graves, Grace and New Life.

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There’s a church I pass on my drive home from work. It’s an old church and looks just like every other Presbyterian one in the area. Whoever built it chose brick for the outside and a white roof with a single steeple adorned with a cross. It perches at the top of hill and in front of it, almost as if guarding the front door, lies an unfenced graveyard that lays across the hill like an old, frayed quilt.

You can’t help but see the headstones as you drive by. They’re so present, so much the focus, it’s hard to notice the cross that crowns the building. It’s hard to see past the glaring reminder that something has died here. Something precious has been lost.

Sometimes I live my own life like this.

Sometimes I allow my past to tell my story, allowing people to see only the wounds I’m trying to lose and the lies I’m constantly putting to death.

Sometimes I hide the precious power of the cross in the comfortable quiet of my own brokenness, all under the guise of pretending to point people to the LORD.

After all, His power is made perfect in my weakness, right?

And dear Lord in Heaven I am so weak.

But that verse–2 Corinthians 12:9–also says that His grace is sufficient for me. Paul wasn’t saying that the trials would go away (much as I’m sure he’d have liked them to). He was saying,

Though this trial comes, my eyes are on you. You are my safe place. You are enough.

Paul’s perspective wasn’t on the grave. It wasn’t on the things that had been lost, the things that died. Instead, he’d turned his eyes to the cross, to the one who promised over and over to take care of his every need.

He anchored his heart there.

This year is full of promise and new life and provision. There are things coming that I finally can see the shadows of because I am choosing to look up at the cross instead of out at the grave. His grace is sufficient for meHis power is made perfect in my weakness.

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