By Guest Blogger Andrea Frazer
Written a few months back. I’m catching up on posting!
Halloween is just around the corner. Fortunately for me, I have two very creative children who aren’t content buying overpriced cheesey costumes from a chain store. Unfortunately for them, their mother can’t sew. I told them I’d do the best I could stitching up their thrift store treasures, but not to expect anything perfect.
“Who’s perfect?” I ask. “Just Jesus,” is the standard response.
Amen for that. For a non-Christian, such as my husband, this might sound like a convenient loop-hole. “Just slack off and don’t try your best? That’s not how the world works,” is a typical conversation for us.
My western-brained, feminist spirit used to agree with him. After all, when I wanted to write for TV, I landed a script. When I wanted to get married, my wonderful Rex waltzed into my life. When I wanted to get pregnant, it happened on the first try. I certainly didn’t reject God’s hand in my good fortune, but I didn’t praise or thank Him nearly enough.
It’s different now. As much as I’d love to start working in TV again… as much as I’d love to write that book or make some extra cash… deep in the recesses of my soul I know that God is pruning me to live life for Him right now, not for me alone.
I’m starting to get what being Christian is all about. (But I have a far way to go. Any prayers would be most welcome!) It is not my talent that will save me. It is not how nice a mother I am. (Which many days, is far from pleasant.) It’s not about how well I clean the house or write a snappy blog. It’s about… enter my inner Bible thumper… Christ crucified.
Ephesians 2: 8-10 “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”
This is a shocking and startling concept for a baby believer like myself. It’s exciting, but it’s more than a little depressing. It’s as if a part of Andrea has vanished – the fun part! The hip writer swigging the Diet Coke on the way to the set in her $200 hair cuts and designer clothes? She’s nowhere to be found. It’s like she died.
Oh, wait… she is dead!
1 Peter: 24 – 25 “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness.”
That’s bad news for my once triumphing ego. But it’s good news also. Literally Good News. I get to start over.
This new life I’m living, thanks to Jesus, sounds really great on paper. Except there’s this teensy weensy problem I’m having living with my husband and my new Father. It’s not always a picnic. My dear friend Farmer Tracey said it best, “Of course, it’s hard, Andrea. It’s like you’re serving two masters!”
Two masters indeed. To be continued on Friday. You won’t want to miss the thrilling sequel debating:
1. How does one sew lights onto angel wings?
2. Does Jesus really exist?
3. How can my scientific husband spend hours on end building seven by seven green L.E.D. cubes. “They’re going to make something really cool,” he promised the other day. “Perhaps a neon blinking crucifix?” I suggested. “No Jesus Las Vegas Chapels around here,” was his response.
Who can blame him on that last comment?
You can also catch me writing about my family, marriage, sex (shhh) and more over here. Look around! I don’t bite. Unless you’re a brownie and a cup of Yuban. Then, like your soul prior to knowing Christ, you’re dead.