Grace Chronicles: "Self-Disclosure"

I readily identify with Kurt Bubna's book, "Epic Grace: Chronicles of a Recovering Idiot." In it he writes: "I went back and forth on what to title this book, but I knew two words had to be included: grace and idiot. Both describe my life so well. Everything I have, everything I am, and every good part of me exists because of the unbelievable grace and goodness of God. His grace is truly epic. It’s larger than life and beyond my imagination. And that is a good thing, because too often in my life I’ve fallen into idiocy like a meteorite falling from the heavens, fast and hard with an explosive blast of burnout at the end." (Bubna is a read that I recommend.)

Such self-awareness may not be politically correct, but is essential to getting at the meaning of grace. Until I honestly 'fess up to who am --thinning hairline, thickening stubbornness, depraved nature, et al -- I will never move beyond intellectual assent and dive deep into relishing and reveling in God's unimaginable mercy. Whether or not I can answer this question largely determines what I do with grace: "Who am I?" I'm talking deep contemplation here, soul searching, mind boggling honesty. The kind of self-disclosure I'm advocating cuts and heals all in the same stroke. Honesty is generally painful, perhaps even brutal, but sincere contrition ushers in reparation. The moment I become honest enough to admit to myself the full extent of my own depravity, I am able to gain a glimpse of God's glory and the wonder of grace. Only those who stumble in the dark fully appreciate the miracle of light.

"What wonder of Grace is this

What story of passion divine

Where judgement and mercy kiss

Where power and love are entwined." (lyrics from "What Wonder of Grace (My Desire )" by Stuart Townend)

Honesty

Honest self-evaluation is a grueling experience, but no personal growth comes apart from authentic introspection and courageous confession. Self-deception is the most ludicrous state of man. It's not that it's a strain for me to be hard on myself, but that I am selective about what I choose to regret. For that reason, and that reason alone, I am to blame for my own state of regression. Until I own up to every personal fault, failure, shortcoming, and self-induced sin without sloughing the blame onto someone else's shoulders, I remain confined to performing in a narrow theatre in which I am both actor and audience.