by Sheila Walsh Sheila Walsh
Sheila Walsh is a powerful communicator, Bible teacher, and bestselling author with more than five million books sold. She is the author of the award-winning Gigi, God’s Little Princess series, Peace for Today, Loved Back to Life, The Storm Inside, Five Minutes with Jesus and The Longing in Me. She is cohost of Life Today with James and Betty Robison. Sheila lives in Dallas, Texas, with her husband, Barry, and son, Christian.
Here it is in a nutshell: Just as one person did it wrong and got us in all this trouble with sin and death, another person did it right and got us out of it. But more than just getting us out of trouble, he got us into life! One man said no to God and put many people in the wrong; one man said yes to God and put many in the right. All that passing laws against sin did was produce more lawbreakers. But sin didn't, and doesn't, have a chance in competition with the aggressive forgiveness we call grace. When it's sin versus grace, grace wins hands down. —Romans 5:18–20 MSG
A state of mind that sees God in everything is evidence of growth in grace and a thankful heart. —Charles G. Finney
Grace binds you with far stronger cords than the cords of duty or obligation can bind you. Grace is free, but when once you take it, you are bound forever to the Giver and bound to catch the spirit of the Giver. Like produces like. Grace makes you gracious, the Giver makes you give. —E. Stanley Jones
So we're not giving up. How could we! Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace. —2 Corinthians 4:16 MSG
That is the mystery of grace: it never comes too late. —François Mauriac
She never wanted her children to worry, but the loss of her husband had been devastating. Some days, the only thing that helped her get out of bed in the morning was knowing that she had three hungry mouths expecting to "Snap, Crackle, and Pop."
Without her husband's salary, the family struggled, especially when it came time to buy clothing. The girls were easier to keep well dressed—through the kindness of friends in her small church who had daughters just a little older than her girls, there was a steady supply of skirts and sweaters.
It was harder with her son. He had one friend in the church, but he was the same age and size, so when pants and shirts were too small for the friend, they were too small for her boy too. And he was growing so fast, it was clear his school pants were far too short.
She didn't have any extra money that month to purchase new pants, so she decided to ask god for help.
Although she didn't want the children to worry, she did want them to know they were being watched over by a very practical, loving Father who understood their needs and was willing and able to meet them. After supper that night, she told them what was going on.
"Your brother needs new pants and I don't have enough money to buy them, so we're going to ask god to provide them," she said.
The younger daughter was skeptical. "does god keep extra pants in heaven? I didn't think angels wore pants," she said.
"That will not be a problem to god," the mother said with a smile. "If god can make a planet out of nothing, he can certainly find some pants for your brother."
So they joined hands, and she prayed, "Father god, thank you for taking care of us. Thank you that you know what we need even before we ask. But you have invited us to ask in Jesus' name. You know that we have a need for pants, so I ask you to provide those and thank you in advance for your loving provision."
"What now?" the younger girl inquired. "Will an angel ring the doorbell or will the pants come in the mail?"
"Let's just wait and see!" the mother said with a conspiratorial wink.
The following evening, the mother's friend dropped by for a cup of tea. When she left, she gave her a package. "I bought these for Tom, but he seems to have grown several inches overnight! These are far too short. Could your son wear them?"
Inside the mother found three pairs of brand-new pants that were just perfect for her son. She was deeply grateful ... but you could have knocked the younger daughter over with a feather.
seeing God in everything
Charles Finney once said, "A state of mind that sees god in everything is evidence of growth in grace and a thankful heart." That statement was a timely challenge for me. Do you ever read something like that and recognize the truth in the words, yet you struggle with what "seeing god in everything" looks like in real, day-to-day life?
Take your life at this moment and run it through that grid. Is it hard to see the hand of god in everything that is happening right now? What are you dealing with right now that you don't remember signing up for?
I think of one of my friends whose daughter is sick. She and her husband are waiting for test results. I think of a school friend of Barry's whose young son has been very ill and has gone through so many painful procedures—and he is not out of the woods yet. I think of a female soldier in Iraq who wrote to say that she listens to audiotapes from our Women of Faith conferences, and at times they are the only thing that keep her sane when she sees friends' lives lost in the war.
All these and other harsh intruders in life often make it hard to recognize the fact that our god is always present. But some of the greatest surprises to me on this spiritual journey are those moments when it becomes clear god has been faithfully cultivating my heart—those times when things don't go as planned, and I do see god is in control. They don't have to be extreme situations like I described above. Often it's in the little things we see god's work. That is grace, and that is a gift.
the best-laid plans of mice and men
I didn't realize at the time I read Charles Finney's statement and wrote it in my notebook that god had tucked this little phrase into my pocket for a day like yesterday. As I reflect on the events of yesterday, I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry. Either way, I am a recipient of grace. Let me give you a little background.
In January 2008, Barry and I decided that since we hadn't had a real vacation in five years, our family would travel somewhere fun for spring break. Barry did some research and found a great deal at a hotel in Cancún, Mexico. Since we live in Texas and Cancún is only a two-hour flight for us, it seemed ideal.
A few days before we left, I pulled together everything I thought we'd need. I looked at our three passports and noticed Christian's had expired. Barry called the airline and was told that all we needed for Christian was his birth certificate.
The big day arrived and we got to the airport in lots of time to catch our morning flight. We presented our two passports and Christian's birth certificate at the desk.
The agent asked, "Where's the third passport?"
"We don't have one," Barry said, "but we do have his birth certificate."
"You can't fly without a passport," she said.
"But we called and talked to one of your agents," Barry replied, his bubble of hope beginning to vaporize.
"You can't travel out of the country without a passport—everyone knows that!" she said, looking at us as if we had just crawled out from underneath a haystack.
"That's why we called, ma'am," Barry bravely continued.
"Not my problem," she said. "Next in line!"
By this point Christian was in tears. I felt so bad for him. He had been very excited about our vacation, and now we were stuck at the airport with a plethora of luggage and nowhere to go, and the friend who dropped us off had left.
"I'm so sorry, Christian," I said. "We'll try to work something out."
Christian and I dragged our bags over to a seating area while Barry remained at the counter, trying to fix the problem. Thirty minutes later, we called for a cab. As soon as we arrived back home, we immediately got online to see what could be done. We discovered that if we could get to Houston, Texas, the passport office there could issue Christian a passport when it opened the following morning and we should have it the same day. We drove back to the airport and got on a flight to Houston.
"We'll find a hotel close to the passport office or the airport when we get there," Barry said.
Oh, really?
When we arrived in Houston, we called every hotel we could think of; but they were all full. We got down to the Motel 6, the Motel 5, and the Motel 2 1/2, but there was no room in the inn. Apparently there was a convention of helicopter pilots in town—who knew there were so many! Finally, as we were about to start looking for a stable and manger, we found a hotel with one room left. By this point, we were all very hungry and tired.
"Mom, do you think I could have a steak?" Christian asked. "I'm starving."
"It's your vacation, babe," I said. "Let's see what the hotel has to offer."
Well, that would be ... nothing. They told us their restaurant was closed, but they would be happy to drive us to one. We told the desk clerk we wanted a steak place, but not anything too formal since we looked a bit bedraggled by this point. She told us about a great restaurant with a new chef who used to work at the Bellagio hotel in Las Vegas. Frankly I didn't care if he'd worked at a Denny's in Darfur; we just needed to eat. The hotel van dropped us off outside a steakhouse and said they would pick us up in an hour. Perfect!
We sat down at our table, and I picked up my menu. I suddenly became painfully aware that Christian was kicking me in the ankle.
"What are you doing, babe?" I asked.
"Mom, that woman is naked!" he whispered.
I looked up and for the first time became aware of the fact that the walls were covered in red velvet and festooned with black-and-white pictures of women with no tops on!
"Barry! Look at the walls!" I said, but he already was.
"Good grief, what is this place?" I whispered. I looked at my menu. It was called The Strip Place. I had naively thought that applied to the strip steak—but apparently not.
Christian went into dramatic mode. "My eyes, my eyes; my beautiful, innocent eyes!"
I said to him, "Just keep your eyes down. Look at your napkin."
When he exploded with laughter, I realized that the same people who'd done the walls had obviously designed the napkins too.
In my evangelical panic, I thought, Let's sing a hymn; we'll sing a hymn! What came to mind was one of my grandmother's favorites, "rock of Ages." Verse two seemed beyond poignant:
Nothing in my hands I bring,
Simply to thy cross I cling.
Naked come to thee for dress ...
I added my own earnest plea to that of Augustus M. Toplady:
Lord, please get me out of this mess;
good grief, look at the size of that woman's chest!
We were stuck. We were hungry, we had no transport, and we were surrounded by pictures of women showing us how good God had been to them.
"Okay, Christian, here's the deal," I said. "I know we don't normally let you watch mp3 movies in restaurants, but this is what I would describe as ... unusual circumstances. So put on Sponge Bob SquarePants, and don't look up until I am approaching your mouth with a forkful of something."
Well, we made it through dinner and got back to our hotel. After we had our extended devotions and prayed together, Christian asked me, "Do you think that made god angry?"
"Do you mean angry that we stayed?" I asked.
"I don't know, Mom—just the whole thing," he said.
"I don't think god was cross with us at all," I told him. "I think it made him sad that those ladies felt they had to take off their clothes. I know he loves them and wants the best for them."
"Do you think he loves them as much as he loves you?" he asked.
"Every bit as much," I said.
"Even though they're doing something he wouldn't want them to?" he asked.
"Christian, god's love for us is not based on our behavior," I assured him. "It's based on his heart and his character. That's grace."
grace in all things
I am aware that this silly inconvenience doesn't hold a candle to the life-and-death situations I described earlier. But that's actually my point. As a believer of forty years (I gave my life to Christ when I was eleven), when I am faced with life's crises, I usually know enough to turn to god for strength, grace, and guidance. It's the small stuff that gets me. It's the moments when my plans are messed up, and it feels like no one really cares one way or another. Those are the times I must learn the lesson over again—to trust God. It's hard for me, because it means I have to let go of my agenda.
As Christian and I sat there in the airport in Dallas surrounded by our bags and disappointment, it was a moment of true humanity and grace to let our heads touch as we asked god to help us through. We didn't have to be strong. We didn't have to do it on our own. We didn't need to follow any rules or live up to any expectations. We just had to be honest and real.
We finally made it to Cancún two days late. But we were there. The three of us sat on the beach, side by side, as the sun was setting. Christian said, "Well, it sure took a while to get here, and I saw things no grandson of a Baptist should ever see, but god was with us every step."
For me, that is the miracle of grace. Not that we finally made it to our vacation, but that god was with us every step—and an eleven-year-old boy knew it, even when our plans seemed to fall apart.
As I look back over my life, I can think of many times when this kind of situation happened and my response was very different. I know now that god's grace was right there every single time, but sometimes I didn't reach out and receive it. To have my hands free to receive grace, I have to be willing to let go of whatever I am clinging to.
Think about your own journey. Can you see in your own life how you are growing in grace, not just in the big moments but all those little moments that can rob us of peace and joy?
that's not fair!
As I have watched my son grow in his understanding of grace, the greatest obstacle for him has been the way he often connects god's favor to his behavior. Christian thinks when we do good things god applauds our righteous behavior, and when we slip and fall he frowns on us. (Do you know how hard it is for me as a mother not to let that belief sit there for a few more years, until he's, say, thirty?) I have to tell him again and again god is not a Scout leader or an etiquette coach. His love is lavish and without repentance.
I think this is one of the hardest doctrines to wrap our hearts and minds around. There is something in us that wants to feel we have contributed in some way to whatever we receive. With the grace of God, we contribute nothing. That's hard for us to swallow. We know we don't bring as much as god does to the table, but we want to feel as if we've done our bit for the team! Not only that, but god's grace is fresh every single day, which means you don't have to rely on what was available yesterday. In fact, yesterday's grace is stale. Yesterday's grace was baked fresh by god for the events of yesterday, but today there is a whole new supply for every single thing you will walk through today.
Christian is not a big breakfast eater. He often runs out to shoot hoops with his friends on a summer morning with nothing more than the aftertaste of toothpaste in his system. Then he'll come dragging in and say, "Mom, I'm starving!"
Do you ever find yourself spiritually starving halfway through your day? Fresh grace is available from the moment you open your eyes until you crawl back under the covers at night.
When we are satiated with God's grace, it is much easier to extend grace to others; but when we are on starvation rations ourselves, we have little to spare.
There is also something in us that finds it hard to see that same lavish grace extended to those who seem particularly undeserving. Perhaps no parable illustrates that more clearly than one found in Matthew's gospel. Jesus told the story of a vineyard owner who hired his first workers of the day at 6 a.m. and agreed on a wage of one dollar. He hired more field hands at 9 a.m., noon, 3 p.m., and 5 p.m.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from let go by Sheila Walsh Copyright © 2008 by Sheila Walsh. Excerpted by permission of Thomas Nelson. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Burdened. The word alone makes shoulders sink. It slows down our lives. It clouds our vision. It is the heaviness of so many memories, grudges, fears, uncertainty, and stress.
Let go.
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matt 11:28)
Let go.
Overworked? Overcommitted? Overtired? Underappreciated?
Let go!
Live free. Sound impossible? Sheila Walsh thought so – until God proved Himself again and again through His Word, His people, and her life.
In Let Go, the best-selling author and speaker walks readers through the journey to freedom in Christ. Along the way, she tackles some of the toughest struggles that weigh women down, answering them with overwhelming truth, promise, and hope. You can lay down your burdens. You can rest. You can find peace. You can live free.
Start here. Let go. And see what God can do.
Includes a study guide.
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