My life is about five minutes from perfect. Five minutes from being absolutely, divinely perfect. And I am petrified. I am scared that all it takes is one wrong move, and then everything will go toppling around me.

It’s ridiculous, I know. But, some of these roads I’ve been down before, and they tend to play tricks on me. I’m wiser now (I think. I hope) and I’m trying to remember those mucky, miry places that trip me up. Like the pilgrim in Pilgrim’s Progress, I’ve fallen prey here and there. And there goes everything I’ve worked for. Slip away. Start again. Start anew.

And now, here I am. Almost perfect. It’s a fallen world, so it isn’t right to have a perfect life, right? It’s somehow, against nature, it would seem. After all the missteps and muddy bogs I’ve fallen, surely this time it’s not for real, right? But, a girl can hope can’t she? And, I can see it. Just forward on the horizon. A glimmering city of gold, so close, that I can smell the luscious treats just on the other side.

And I am grateful. So grateful. My prayers everyday have been “please” and “thank you.” Thank you God, for this almost perfect life, and please, please God, let me keep it. Please don’t let me screw it up in my humanness.

I guess it’s all about trust. Learning to trust in God in and not myself. Learning to live day by day. And knowing it is by grace we have been saved, and not from ourselves.

That’s a hard lesson I’ve learned. Veteran church kids are taught that God loves good kids better. Now, we aren’t exactly taught that, but that’s what we hear, anyway. Be good, obedient, respect your parents. Keep your room clean. Obey your teachers. Study. Do your homework. Be as “perfect” as possible, and then pray for forgiveness when you aren’t. Don’t smoke. Don’t do drugs. Don’t hang around with people that do, to “avoid the appearance of evil.” Don’t drink until you’re 21, and then only in “moderation.” Follow all the laws (unless they conflict with God’s laws).  Don’t watch porn. Keep your bedroom door open when you have a date over. And on and on….

And somehow, we get the message that if we do all of these things, we’ll have more “credit” with God than other people. This will make God want to do cooler stuff for us than for other people. One of the hardest lessons I’ve ever had to learn was that’s not true. God doesn’t love me because I studied hard in school, and didn’t engage in underage drinking. He loves me because he’s God. And loving people is what He does. I still don’t quite have my head wrapped around all that yet. It’s a scary idea.

So, why, then, do we do good works? Why then, do we not sin? For two reasons–for one,  intrinsic value of it, I think. We do good works so that we will reap the benefits of good works. Study hard= Get good grades. We don’t sin, so that we don’t have the consequences. Don’t do drugs = escaping the mire that is a drug-addicted lifestyle.

Secondly, sin creates a wall between us and God. A wall in which we cannot hear his voice. We cannot feel him. We cannot discern his will. We cannot feel his love–which our souls desperately need. We are separated from God because of our sin. Something like, if you’ve angered or hurt your spouse or boyfriend, or girlfriend. You don’t quite feel “normal” inside, until you’ve made it right. Until that “wall” between you is removed. We don’t sin, because the more we sin, the bigger that wall gets, and the more distant you get from a God who loves you, and you need.

THESE are the reasons we do works, and don’t sin. To keep our relationship with God clean, and to stay away from natural consequences of sin. It is NOT to make God love us any more. It’s not to somehow manipulate God based on some sort of “works based accounting.”

And so, I conclude by saying, I’m learning there is nothing I can do to make God bless me. I just have to trust him. And that’s so hard. Because trust requires your whole heart. And when you’ve been burned by life, it becomes harder to trust. At least I think. Because there’s something in you that says, “But, God, you failed me last time.”  You have to keep reminding yourself that it wasn’t God that failed you. It was your inability to plan. It was your lack of self-discipline. Or, you didn’t fail at all, you learned and grew…and the list goes on. It’s hard to hear the truth. That’s why it’s easier to blame God.

So it is, on the edge of yesterday and today, that my life is almost perfect. And I just have to trust that it will stay this way.