An Important Post

We were headed home from a successful trip to Costco. I do believe it's the first of that kind we've ever had. There is something about Costco that brings out the worst in my kids, but this trip was good. 

I chalked it up to the kids being bigger. 

I was lost in thought and music, and thankfulness for the simple things,  when I realized that the little kid was in what we call the "way back" of the van, trying to tell me something. 

I turned down the music and said, "What, Buddy?"

He said something again, but was being shy about it. That kid can be so loud and bold, but he has a definite shy side that springs out frequently.

I tried again and said, "I can't hear you, Buddy. What?"

He repeated himself, but for the life of me over the sound of the road noise on the interstate and his being shy, I couldn't make it out.

The girl kid was in the middle, and had by this time lost some patience.

"HE WANTS TO BE A CHRIST FOLLOWER," she yelled at the top of her lungs with the depth of emotion of a news reporter on the local 6 o'clock news. 

Oh.

I was caught completely off guard. A hundred thoughts flooded my head at the same time. I struggled to process what he said and force my head to switch gears all at the same time.

"Um, what did you say, Bud? Can you say it a different way?"

I wanted to make sure I'd heard correctly.

He said something again that I couldn't hear, and before I could ask him to repeat it, Diane Sawyer in the middle row belted, "HE SAID HE WANTS TO BE A CHRISTIAN..."

"Okay, sweetie. I got it. Thanks for your help."

She sat back, glad to have been a valuable contribution to the process. 

My heart fluttered and I lost my breath for a second. 

I had prayed since these kids were in me that God would save them, and save them while they were young. I prayed humbly, knowing that it wasn't a given that they would be saved. I wanted them to be saved early and cling to it all their days. 

Would it be possible that God had saved all of my children? I wasn't sure, but the thought of it filled me with such gratitude and hope.

I turned my attention to the back seat and said, "Sweetie, can you tell me what it means to be a Christ follower?"

He shyly with a smile said, "It means that Jesus died on the cross. He died because I sin. If I believe I get to go to heaven when I die."

It was a 5 year old version of the Gospel, and I appreciated it, but my heart longed for him to know and understand more.

See, I'm studying Galatians with a wonderful group of women, and I'm coming to terms with the way I've treated the Gospel in my own life. I've realized that I don't always believe the miracle of the Gospel. I don't truly appreciate or believe the miracle of justification - the act of God seeing me as blameless and righteous because of how God imputed my sins on His Son. He sees me a holy and right with Him not because of anything I did or could ever do, but because of what happened to Christ on the cross. 

Salvation only happens because of sola fide - by faith alone. Through grace alone. In Christ alone. We've said those words in our house over and over again as I remind myself that God's love for me is not rooted in my performance before him as a "good" Christian. No Bible study, no love of theology, no church I go to, no amount of time in prayer, the books I read, nothing I could do or will ever do will make me more or less justified. Not more or less loved by God. 

I just am. 

The realization of the depths to which I don't believe this have wrecked me over the last few weeks and the reaching implications of how this affects my life have shattered a lot in me.

It hasn't been fun, but it's been necessary.

So as I looked at the precious face in the rear view mirror, I was desperate to tell him that he was saved by the simple fact that he believed that Christ died out of love, and that He did indeed take his place. The how's and the why's could be worked out as he grew in his faith and worked out his salvation for the rest of his life.

But I really think he gets it. 

He asked me when we got home, "Do I tell God? Do I pray?"

All on his own.

The next day he reminded me again that he had prayed. "And I told God that I wanted Him to help me obey."

Is it a coincidence that as I struggle through the complexities of how I have switched justification and sanctification in my life and as I trudge through the deep depths of Galatians that I was presented with the Gospel in its most simplest terms?

Believe. And obey. Out of a heart that is overflowing with gratitude and love for what the Son did. 

When we shared the news with Daddy, he squinted his eyes at Zane and said, "This does not been that you get the grape juice and crackers on Sunday now..."

My eyes widened and I looked at that kid. 

Was this all a ploy to get to do what everyone else did on Sunday?  To be able to take communion?

He grinned and said, "I know."

I think he does. 

And so I have expressed my thankfulness to God over and over again but also felt a larger burden now. How to disciple him. He belongs to Christ now, and it's my job to teach him how to live as a Christ follower. I won't buckle under that pressure, but I'll take it step by step, trusting Him to guide me as I guide him.

I'm so deeply grateful for this display of the simplicity of the Gospel during a time where it felt heavy and complex to me. 

Thank you, Lord, for saving my son.