A Sanctuary of Grace and Doubt
After dinner this evening, I was unable to relax, so I wandered into my office. I lingered a moment by my bookshelves searching for a book that would calm the storm in my soul. There was a voice, nearly undetectable, what was it saying? “You haven’t done enough to earn safety. Prove yourself. Earn the security you lack.”
Letting out a sigh, I headed to the easy chair where I do most of my work and sat down to think. (Yes, the chair is easy, but most of my work is not.) I thought back over my day. I’d done good work for my employer. I’d even written and published two short pieces of writing on my website, and they were good enough to provide a sense of accomplishment. But nothing could still that voice, driving me on. “You’ve got to keep working. You are not safe.”
Yes, this was very familiar. Competence has always been my security—armor against the slings and arrows of fate. But no more. I’d decided work would not be my protection. Yet here it was, the old familiar companion, telling me to earn salvation through my hard work. I had determined to banish it from my job, and it showed up in the simple act of telling the truth in writing.
Well, no sense fighting this. It’s time to admit I am a habitual idolater. It’s my default behavior. I make everything I have a tool to protect myself because of my over-developed need for safety and security. But only in God can I find any lasting peace and security.
I’m sorry, Jesus. The writing I’m doing for you has somehow replaced you in my heart.
This office, a small retreat from the world with books and computers, can either be a temple of self-worship or a sanctuary of God’s grace and presence. And today, it was both.
