“But he gives greater grace. Therefore he says: God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble. Therefore, submit to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you. Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded.”– James 4:6-8

Greater grace. What I always feel like I am in desperate need of, and I cannot seem to shed the sinful nature within me. In my theological mind, of course, I know that I will fight my sin nature until I am made completely whole and glorified in eternity. But my perfectionist mind desires ultimate victory today. As much as I want to get it right in the here and now, I will often get is just as wrong. Because the reality is, until I am with Jesus, this battle rages on, and I am in daily need of greater grace. God’s grace will always be greater than my need for it. In other words, no matter how much grace I need, God’s supply is always greater.

The crux of this issue often lies within a lack of faith. This summer I feel like that is what God is impressing upon me the most. Where is my faith? Where am I living out my faith? Where is my faith lacking? What is a threat to my faith? In whom am I placing my faith? I feel like I should be “good enough” or spiritually mature enough to not lose the battles as much as I feel like I do. In my mind, I know the type of follower of Christ I long to be. I want to be the woman whose presence invites others to experience peace. I want to be on oasis for people in the midst of what they’re enduring. I want to be patient, loving, kind, forgiving. I want to embody the love that is found in I Corinthians 13. I want to offer hope and the Word of God to those who need to hear it. I want to use less words and listen more.

Yet when my feet hit the floor in the morning following my time with Jesus, it often feels like all of that flies out the window. So what is the problem? Clearly, concisely, it is me. But oh how different it looks when “me” becomes “Christ in me.” Of my own accord, I cannot make myself a more patient and kind woman. In my own strength, I cannot forgive what feels impossible to forgive. By my own power, I am incapable of selfless love. But God gives greater grace. With Christ in me, His fruit has the prime conditions to flourish. I feel like when I read verses that say, “Be imitators of Christ as dearly loved children” (Ephesians 5:1), and “Walk worthy of the calling you have received” (Ephesians 4:1), there is tremendous pressure to do all of the right things. And that, somehow, it is all up to me to achieve this level of spiritual maturity. And thus begins the cycle of feeling defeated day after day.

But God gives greater grace. The deep-rooted legalism of my childhood still rears its ugly head in these situations. This constant need to do better or try harder is exhausting. But God gives greater grace. What was lost in those early years of my faith development was, in fact, grace. God’s grace is what enables me to be like Him. God’s grace allows me to mess up and try again. God’s grace is what carries me on to spiritual maturity in Him. God’s grace grows the fruit of the Spirit in my life. It will never, ever happen by me trying harder to do better.

Inherent in this faulty approach to spiritual growth is pride. Pride says I can do better. Pride says I am the one who determines the growth in my life. Pride spurts the lie that deceives me into thinking it is all up to me to bring about this or that. Pride is wrong. Pride is the tool and trickery of the enemy that has been around since the very beginning of time. Pride was at work in the Garden of Eden and has been the downfall of man for generations.

Humility is the antithesis. Humility inoculates us from the grip of pride on our lives. Humility says I can’t, but God can. Humility releases the reins and trusts God’s plan and God’s timing. Humility acknowledges that God is bigger and His grace greater than what our measly, weak selves can do on our own. Humility is a weapon against the enemy of our souls.

Consider Jesus. From a worldly perspective, some may call Him weak. Jesus was often misunderstood and mistreated. Jesus’ meekness was mistaken for weakness. Meekness, gentleness, is power under control. Jesus will forever be the greatest example of humility for us to emulate. Jesus had all the authority given to Him in heaven and on earth, yet He set aside His own rights as God’s Son and humbled Himself by taking on human flesh, becoming a man, and obeying His Father all the way to His death on the cross (Philippians 2:6-8). If He, the perfect, sinless, spotless Son of God demonstrated humility, how much more should we? The encouragement for us is this–that same power that raised Jesus from the dead dwells within us through the presence of the Holy Spirit.

While this seems almost too easy because we have gone from us thinking it is all up to us to identifying that the fruit in our lives is a direct work of the Holy Spirit, we are not without a role in this. We will never truly experience spiritual growth in our human efforts to try harder. Nor will we develop Christ-like characteristics by washing our hands of any personal accountability because it is all up to the Spirit. There is a part for us to play as well. Like the verses I quoted above say, “Be imitators of God,” and “Walk worthy,” there is an element, a key and fundamental principle, at play here. To imitate God requires action on our parts. To walk engages muscles and uses energy.

Jesus explains how this works in the best way in John 15:4-5, “Remain in me, and I in you. Just as a branch is unable to produce fruit by itself unless it remains on the vine, neither can you unless you remain in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. The one who remains in me and I in him produces much fruit, because you can nothing without me.” Other versions of the Bible use the word “abide” rather than “remain.” What is depicted here is the concept of dwelling, of remaining, of abiding. This involves a constant interaction and connection to Jesus. He is the source of all of our fruit. Our job is to remain and to abide in Him. When I think of abiding, I think of my home. Home is the place where I abide. Imagine Jesus as that abode. Jesus is saying, “make me your home.” Think of what home means to you. Now hear Jesus whisper, “That is who I want to be to you and who I can be for you.” Jesus is our home. We feel comfortable at home because it is what is familiar to us, what is ours. That is Jesus. And when we abide in Him, He becomes our place of security. And the more time we spend in Him and with Him, the more we begin to resemble and reflect Him.

When we draw near to Jesus, He draws near to us. It is simultaneously that simple and that complicated. There will be much that threatens to pull us away from Him. Distractions will seemingly appear out of nowhere. Our old sin nature will be at war with the work of the Spirit in our lives. The battle will always be worth fighting. God gives greater grace. For me, this humility is sort of releasing. Control makes us feel secure. Knowledge makes us feel safe. Yet what I must cling to is that God is all-knowing, and He is always in control. His ways are far better than any I could choose for myself. When the paths of life seem shadowed and the direction is unmarked, God is still good, and He will light the way, even when it is literally one footstep at a time.

As I conclude this summer series on what God is teaching me, I recognize that it is actually only the beginning. God is doing a new thing. He is making a way in the desert, and He is forging new paths in my life. I don’t quite know what to expect from any of that, but I do know and believe at the core of my being that God is so so SO good and He loves me more than my finite, human mind can comprehend. As a new stage of life begins for me this month, I am hopeful. Through every triumph and challenge of my life, God has never once abandoned me. He will not do so now. Years ago, I felt a calling from Him on my life. I knew it involved teaching His Word, but I also knew that my primary focus was my family. Twenty years have passed since I first felt His call. I often wondered if I had missed it or if I was being disobedient in some way. Or, worse, I worried I had not heard Him correctly at all. Yet, this summer, I have felt the stirrings of my hearts that indicate His timing is now. Who knows, but God, what that will look like! But God is faithful, and He gives greater grace. I will abide in Him, and He will produce the fruit of the good works He prepared for me to do.

Be Blessed!