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.

A few weeks ago, I watched that movie The Patriot. I saw it once many years ago, but given the intensity of the topic, it’s something you don’t watch often. But, on this day, as I watched it I was overcome with some interesting thoughts.

For anyone who hasn’t seen it, it’s a Mel Gibson movie about the American Revolution. Mel Gibson plays a single father of seven, living in South Carolina. He is a pacifist—certainly frustrated at the actions of the British government, but sees no desire to enter a bloody war. He thinks more diplomacy is in order.

But, his son, played by Heath Ledger, brings the fight literally to his doorstep, when he enlists in the Continental Army. So, the pacifist father must make a decision, and ends up leading a faction of rebel militia. Key scenes involve a Braveheart-esque moment on the battle field as Mel Gibson gallops into a throng of redcoats carrying an American flag, with a rebel yell.

And as I watched this scene, and the bloodshed on the battle field, I wondered what God thought about this moment in history. The movie made no small point of the horrid bloodshed of the war. In one battle scene, Heath Ledger watches from a window, and sees a teenage boy’s head blown clear off by a cannonball. In another, we watch Mel Gibson shoot a soldier partly responsible his son’s death, and then unleash his rage upon the corpse with a Tomahawk until his shirt was about as red as the British uniform. And so it goes…

As I watched this, I thought about these soldiers. How God is passionately in love with each and every person on the battle field. God knew every single soldier’s name, and delighted in their company. God knew their intimate thoughts, and knew everything that was good about them. So, did God weep for their loss? Did he mourn as they lay in a field, choking on blood, staggering their last breaths?

But, at the same time, Old Testament history shows God to be a warrior. He is constantly telling Israel to take cities, and conquer and plunder. He believed in battle, and war and fighting to “Take the land.” And of course, now, centuries later, we have seen the result of the American soldier’s sacrifice. An amazing country, a leader in the world. And we know that God’s grace is upon us. So, does that mean God sanctioned their cause? Did God condone the bloodshed that created our society?

And as I watched Mel Gibson’s horseback character, stars and stripes unfurling behind him, I was overcome with sentiment. These men were carrying a country. Did they feel the grace of God upon them? Did they know that they were birthing something? Did they know the freefalling sensation of being on the edge of something great, something beautiful. Did they really know, they were building something for their posterity? And was the hand of God upon them?

We think of God as this tender hearted, laughing, peaceful being that would never want us to hurt anyone…and that’s definitely a side of God. But, God is also a warrior. And whose side was he on in that war? And if he was on our side, did that mean he was against our enemies–who loyally fought for their own country?