Have You Seen My Camera?

I lost my camera. It happened around Christmas.

Have you seen it? Could you please give it back? I want it. I want to take happy pictures.

Without a camera, I have to rely on the generosity of others to send me pictures they take.

Yesterday my insurance company was feeling generous.

They sent me this.

This is what a boulder can do to a van. This is proof that I screwed up. This is not helpful. This is a reminder that because of my screw up, my insurance company is going to ask me for more money every month. Again, this is not helpful.

I hate making mistakes. It's my personality. I always want to know the right way to do something, the best way, the most efficient, the fastest way. I don't want to mess around. I want to be good, to be better, to be worthy.

I'm reading 'Mere Christianity' by C.S. Lewis. I call him Clive now because, well because, I love him. No more C.S. Lewis, it's too impersonal. It's Clive.

This is what Clive told me yesterday.

"He (the Christian) does not think God will love us because we are good, but that God will make us good because He loves us."

I read those words and then I cried. I cried for a while. I cried because I heard freedom in Clive's words. Freedom and the lack of condemnation. I know that in Christ there is no condemnation, I mean, I know it in my head but my heart forgets. The deeper part of me wants perfection because it thinks that with perfection comes affirmation, acceptance, approval, a smile, a nod and love. My heart thinks that mistakes mean I'm not good, and that I'm only worthy of disapproval and scorn. My heart thinks that mistakes are like trumpets, proclaiming my ineptitude, my stupidity, my silliness and ultimately my unworthiness to be loved to the world.

I must be completely crazy. I'm a Christian woman who struggles with believing she's loved. What?

Belief that I am loved, worthy and not condemned is very difficult for me. I know me. I'm not smart. I do stupid things all the time. I'm silly. I dance at inappropriate times. I swear too much. I'm lovable? Right now? Even with a van that looks like that? Even when no pushed me into the boulder? Even though I may have taken the corner with just a leeeetle too much speed?  Lovable? I said a bad word when the van hit the boulder. I mean, you know, a really bad word. Still loved?

Clive, whispered to me yesterday morning that I am loved. I'm loved.  I don't have to be perfect, or right or smart. I simply have to believe.

Lord, please help my unbelief.

"He (the Christian) does not think God will love us because we are good, but that God will make us good because He loves us."

I'm going to sit on those words today. I'm rolling out my blanket,  my picnic basket and my copy of 'Mere Christianity'. I'm parking it right here, right on top of these words. Clive and I need some time together.

Thanks insurance company. It really was a lovely picture.

Thanks Clive. Your words are like sunshine and warm breezes in a place that seems stuck in winter.

I'd take pictures of the sunshine if I had my camera, and if it was sunny.