A Flower and His Gift

It was about a hundred degrees outside, particularly humid that day as I walked the edge of the Nile, probably wishing to be in wintry America. I loved walking the Nile, despite the heat. I particularly love the mud next to it, it seems extra red and the trees extra green. I was supposed to be headed to the market, but took a long route in order to see the river and more than likely to pray for strength. That was continual in Uganda. Anyways, I think The Lord was preparing my heart for a lesson I didn't know would come from that day until, well, now... When I remembered Ssunwai. Ssunwai worked at the market. She sold flowers. Beautiful flowers. It always baffled me when I would pass her (not yet knowing her name) that someone would try to sell flowers in a country where most people are just trying to buy their next meal. That day I stopped next to her. To be honest, I didn't really have any intentions of starting conversation. Her umbrella was a nice break from the sun and, well, she offered. Ssunwai and I exchanged greetings in the local language and sat quietly for a few minutes. She asked where my husband was. I told her I wasn't sure, but to let me know if she found a good one. She laughed. And then... This happened. It wasn't a big deal, until now. Until the light shed on my skewed vision this week brought me back to this day. Okay sorry off track, I'll tell you what happened. Ssunwai handed me a flower. I quickly fumbled around for some shillings to pay her and she gently, oh so gently, rested her hand upon mine. She said in perfect English, "No, you don't owe me money. It's for you, from me, a gift!" I felt indebted to this woman who had half of her teeth missing, sores on her feet, and missing fingers. All I could think of was how I could pay her back. Sweet, sweet Ssunwai.

In hindsight, I'm really mad at myself for not seeing the perfectly clear parallel here. To tell her of the ultimate free gift. To repay her in that way, with something that always gives. Abounds. Endlessly.

However, this is not what I ponder tonight. I'm pondering how I would like to say I'm rooted soundly in God's doctrine of grace. But I'm not. I actually suck at it.

I hear, "Josey, you look beautiful." Or "Josey, you're so deserving of..." And I'm baffled. My response in my head goes a little like this: "Me? Pshhh... I deserve that like I deserve a billion dollar mansion and an Audi." And while I'm right, I don't deserve it, He gave it anyway in his rich mercy. (Not the mansion and the Audi... But you get the picture). I don't accept these words of love, or encouragement. And if I can't so freely accept a compliment, how much more do I continually deny myself the grace that I already have?

Oh how I long to be a woman who is so founded in His doctrine of grace. That stands firm to accept what I know I don't deserve. That humbles herself -at the very foot of the cross. A woman whose knees are raw and elbows bruised from the floor of her bedroom because she cries out in desperation to know her Father more deeply. A woman whose theology isn't shaken by human words. A woman who could stand and say, "Praise God!" in every circumstance.
A woman who accepts the gentle touch of God when he stops my recklessly searching for a shilling; my scrambling to find something to pay him back with. I could never find anything close to the worth of His Gift. I want to feel and live by this gentle touch and listen to Him say, just like Ssunwai, "No you don't owe me a thing."

And I'll trust, "For the Lord God is a sun and shield; the Lord bestows favor and honor. No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly." Psalm 84:11

He withholds nothing good from me.
He withholds nothing good from me.
He withholds nothing good from me.
Even when I think it's time for something or that this would be best for me, I trust that he withholds nothing good from me, His grace abounds, and His plans are better. Praise The Holy One.