Our Stories

When I was in high school two boys from my school were killed in a car accident. I spent months struggling with God, blaming Him for what had happened. Eventually I reached this point where I thought that regardless of the conclusions I came to about God, or maybe more, in light of them, I had been way too angry with Him to ever be accepted back into his arms.

Almost at the very moment of realization the dad of a friend of mine said, “Hey, I’ve been there and grace is so much bigger than our feeble fist shaking at God.” That resonated as true. Nothing I could do could push God away.

But over the years, as I continued on into deeper relationships with Jesus and those around me I began to slip back into the reliance on the things I did to provide me with grace. If I was a good enough Christian, youth leader or girlfriend, then I would find acceptance with God and people. The problem with this was that I was not good enough at any of these things.

 I remember standing at White Rock beach, a few years after graduation, being hit with the realization that Jesus didn’t care whether I was “good enough” at anything, He wasn’t grading me and He certainly wasn’t loving me less because I was not reading my bible enough or being a selfish friend.

Now, as I navigate the waters of what it means to be a wife or how I teach 17-year-olds grammar, I still struggle with remembering that Jesus does not give the grace I need based on my performance, but he gives abundantly in spite of it.