Legalism vs Redemption

I was chatting with a friend last week about the conundrum of grace. She vulnerably shared about a situation she was facing, and how sometimes, the deeper challenge is not in apologizing, but in accepting forgiveness. Sometimes, we feel so uncomfortable with the concept of grace, that we would prefer the playing field just be leveled.

I mess up, you mess up, we're even. We move on. 

It may sound twisted, but I understood perfectly. I got how difficult it can feel for our human heart to be handed unwarranted forgiveness, a new slate so to speak. 

I thought about how Jesus' love has taught me to lay down & accept grace when my heart wants to feel justified and "safe." I thought about how this has rolled into my relationship, allowing me to accept forgiveness where I previously would have fought it. 

And then this weekend happened, and I realized that maybe I don't have as big of a grasp on this "free grace" thing as I thought. 

Because the world is ridiculously small, a man that I had crossed paths with 2 and a half years ago on a pre-#adventuresofsoberamy outing somehow collided with one of my good friends. When she asked if I remembered him, I legitimately did not. It took a few Facebook profile pictures to jog my memory, though there wasn't that good of a memory to jog in the first place. 

I felt perfectly safe laughing with my two good friends over this drunken, relatively harmless escapade, but once I realized that this man's image of me did not include the previous 2 years of sobriety, I felt the need to justify myself. The words "tell him I'm 2 years sober and love Jesus now!" flew straight out of my mouth. 

I felt uncomfortably thick in shame that I haven't felt in some time. And in that moment, it seemed like the only way out of that shame was through self-justification. 

I am sober now, therefore my identity is no longer marked by drunken stories. 

I am sober now, therefore my transgressions do not define me. 

I am sober now, therefore I am redeemed. 

And in that moment, I realized that at some point in the last 2 years of sobriety, I got things very, very backwards. 

Sobriety does not redeem my past, 

Jesus redeemed my past. 

All of a sudden, I realized that my salvation and redemption felt safe when seen through the lens of my sobriety. But when that was taken out of the equation, when all that was evident were stories of drunken escapades, I didn't feel redeemed. 

Sobriety was a gift from God, but somewhere along the way, it started taking His place.

God is my redeemer, not sobriety. 

God is the one who frees me from shame, not sobriety. 

Christ is the reason I can stand before God with confidence, not sobriety. 

Sobriety came from the grace of God as a response to the redemption being accomplished in my heart. It was never meant to earn or justify my salvation. 

I used to think legalism was all about putting on a front for others, but now I see that it can easily be used as a front for ourselves. Because accepting free grace? It feels uncomfortable and unnatural. We would much rather feel as though we've safely earned something than freely and undeservingly received it. 

I want to stop trying to earn grace. Because the fact of the matter is, thanks to my homeboy Jesus, it's already mine to receive. 

I want to stop using sobriety as a security blanket to hide from shame. Instead, I want to accept the truth that my identity has been reformed from the inside out simply because I am radically loved by God.

Radically loved, I tell you. 

{PS: you are too}

Freedom to Listen

Sobriety freed me. I had no idea how thick the chains were until they were gone, and it felt good. I finally was free to discover who little Miss Amy Reed really is, without the fear of my personality changing after one or two or six drinks. 

I remembered how much I loved sober Amy, how fun and confident she was. In high school, I knew alcohol wasn't my thing, but I didn't judge others for it being theirs. After 6 years of that girl being gone, Jesus brought her back in full force. I truly can't express how grateful I am for that; I missed her. 

I not only was free to discover myself, but I was also freed from a lot of distractions. It's hard to hear God when you're battling a vicious cycle of temptation - guilt - temptation - guilt. It gets exhausting, right? When God so graciously removed alcohol from my life, He removed a big wedge that was getting in the way of my ability to hear Him. 

When I look back over 24, I see so much evidence of hearing God with new ears. One month into the year, I decided to sign up for a trip to Africa. The girl who had never been out of the country was getting on a plane to go share the gospel in Uganda - say what? 

Oh, how I miss those faces. It was staring into them that I saw mission with new eyes. I didn't leave the mission field in Africa, I brought it home with me. Something happened over on that beautiful, green Uganda mountain top. This girl had her heart set on fire for Jesus in a whole new way. 

Somewhere in those first few months of 24, I felt the Lord calling me to switch churches. Logically, it didn't make sense. I had no reason to leave my current church; still to this day, I can rave and rave and rave about how much I love it. But something in me felt it, this unexplainable peace that made the decision pretty easy for me. 

In that transition, God did so much work in my heart. He humbled me, grew me, used me, molded me, challenged me, encouraged me, and loved on me. I've met so many people that I never would have met, and I can't praise Him enough for that. 

24 was a year of learning to hear God, learning to search for His voice and follow it, trust it. It led to so many wonderful things this: new friends, new adventures, new stories. And I know this is only just the beginning. 

The Start of 24

Did you know that God has a story for you? One that's for you, and you alone. It's individually and uniquely crafted for you to shine the glory of our God into a world that desperately needs it.

 It's pretty amazing, when you think about it. We're all born into this world with this desire somewhere deep down inside that wants to live a life with legacy, with meaning, with purpose. And somewhere along the line, maybe you lost faith in that. Maybe this world convinced you that legacy, meaning, and purpose aren't for everyone. Maybe you're feeling average, normal, unimportant. 

If there's one thing I hope people find from this blog, it's faith. Faith in a God who writes big stories for little people. It doesn't matter how many people your story affects, what matters is how it affects. You are meant to be a light in this world. You are meant to carry the best news that can ever be heard, that there is a God who loves us so much that He sent His Son to pay for our sin, that we may be reconciled to Him. 

And that reconciliation? That friendship that is born between you and the God of the universe?

That changes ev. ery. thing. 

***

My life is forever changed because of Jesus Christ. I love telling my story, because it's a story I could have never written for myself. One with His fingerprints all over it, and I praise Him for that. Oh, do I praise Him for that. 

There are two key dates in my testimony, two dates that I now look back on as days when "everything changed." I didn't know it at the time; you rarely do, right? But now I know. I know that on those two days, Jesus reached down and with infinite mercy & grace, decided to change my life for His glory. 

I said I couldn't have written this story for myself, right? Case and point: those two dates are the only two dates in the calendar year that symbolize a new start for me. The first occurred on January 1st, 2012, the day I fully surrendered my life to Christ. And the second occurred on my 24th birthday, June 29th, 2013, the day I decided to give up alcohol. 

I just love that God took the two days of the year that I celebrate a new start, and gave new meaning to them. I will never be able to celebrate a New Year's Day without celebrating the day I recklessly abandoned my life for Jesus. And starting this year, I will never be able to celebrate my birthday without celebrating sobriety. 

I had no idea that was going to be one of my last drinks. And looking back on both January 1st, 2012, and June 29th, 2013, I had no idea I would ever look back on those days as good days. They both started hungover, they both started with lots of tears, and heart ache, and shame. They felt like ugly days, to be honest. 

But this is what I love about our God; He takes our ugly and turns it into beauty. For His glory. And, because He loves us that much. 

Before I get into gushing about the amazing, wonderful, blessing of a year that 24 was, I wanted to start at the beginning. I wanted to share that it didn't seem off to a good start when I woke up on my birthday to a thick blanket of guilt, shame, and regret. 

Why do I want to start there? Because I know someone, somewhere might be there right now. Someone might be stuck in the cycle that I was stuck in. Maybe yours has nothing to do with alcohol, or maybe it has everything to do with alcohol. 

Regardless, I want you to know there's hope. I want you to know that there is nothing, I repeat, nothing too ugly for Him to use. When He looks at you, He sees nothing ugly about you. He sees a life that He crafted for His glory, and He's just waiting, ready to write the story of a lifetime for you.

Sometimes, the biggest break throughs happen from the biggest break downs. On June 29th, 2013, I had a break down. I saw my sin so clearly, and it scared me. It scared me enough to run, as fast as I could, straight into Jesus' arms. It scared me enough to admit that I was meant for abstinence from alcohol, and that as scared as I was of sobriety, I was more afraid of what alcohol could do to my life. To my relationships. To my future. 

June 29th, 2013 may have started with a hangover, but it was the last one I'll ever have. It opened the door to a type of freedom I didn't even know existed. 

He took my ugly, and made it shine for His glory, the way that only He can.

6 Months

Today is my half birthday. And to be honest, it's not something that I usually give much thought to. It comes and it goes, and with it, there may be a brief "dang, half way through the year" moment. 

This year, things are a bit different. This year, the day doesn't only mark the fact that I am half way through my 24th year. This year, it also marks that I am 6 months into sobriety. And that is something I want to celebrate.

I haven't written much about it since the 60 day mark, but today, I want to jot down some thoughts. I haven't shared much in the last 4 months because to be honest, it doesn't feel like a big deal. It's like one day I drank, and the next day I didn't anymore. I haven't once questioned my decision, or felt tempted to have a drink.

It doesn't feel like a big deal, but the fact is, it is. It is a big deal. I wasn't exactly a casual drinker; alcohol was very much a part of my life. And now, it's not. And I have a man named Jesus Christ to thank for that. 

Six months ago, as I celebrated my 24th birthday at a worship concert, I tangibly experienced the freedom of the gospel in a way I never had before. You may be thinking "wow, what a goody-two-shoes Christian, celebrating her birthday at a worship concert." And to that, I would beg to differ. 

I needed that worship concert. I needed those lyrics blasting in my ears telling me that God's grace covers me. I needed to hear that I am redeemed, restored, and that nothing, nothing can separate me from His love. I needed it because I was dealing with so much shame from poor decisions made the evening before. 

The feeling of guilt over decisions made while intoxicated was not unfamiliar to me. As a matter of fact, it was quite the opposite. I knew it so well, the tossing and turning of an anxious stomach, the nervous thoughts of who could possibly be mad at me, the heavy weight of shame. 

I sat there wondering if I was ever going to beat this, this battle with alcohol. I wondered if this was going to plague me all of my life. I had tried and tried to be a "responsible drinker," and it just wasn't feeling possible. And right as the anxious thoughts were building, a voice broke through them. 

"You are free to abstain."

And boom. I was. 

For the first time in my life, I felt the freedom that I have in the Lord. I felt it wash over me, rid me of all of my guilt and shame. I saw the gift right in front of me, and consciously realized that all I had to do was grab it. 

Grab it, I did. And nothing has been the same since. The girl who had tried and failed to give up alcohol many times before, even cried over the fear of how it would affect friendships, suddenly was overwhelmed with peace. The peace that only comes from the Lord. 

I gradually broke the news to friend after friend, and was so incredibly blessed by the support of each one. Some had seen this battle first hand, and others may not have fully understood the decision, but all were supportive. All were loving. All were proud. 

I learned so much about myself in those first few months. I saw how much of my security was wrapped up in alcohol. I had to bring that straight to the Lord, who helped me face all of those fears of being inferior without a glass in my hand. 

I learned so much about my friends. I can't tell you how much it blessed me when someone specifically brought a non-alcoholic drink just for me. Or how much it blessed me to receive invites to things like a wine club party, or to be asked to help pour drinks at a festival.

I was so humbled by the love and support of others. I once was afraid that giving up alcohol would cause me to lose friendships, and I can happily say that it has only strengthened them. 

From the outside, my life doesn't look very different now. I go to all of the same events, and even hold the same glasses in my hand. The only differences may be that I make a whole lot less ugly faces while sipping beverages, and DD more than I used to. 

But on the inside? There's a big difference. And I have no way to describe that other than to say I feel free. And it feels good. 

For the Lord is the Spirit, and wherever the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. 

// 2 Corinthians 3:17 //

So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed. 

// John 8:36 //

In my distress I prayed to the Lord, and the Lord answered me and set me free. 

// Psalm 118:5 //

Sobriety - One month in

30 days. No alcohol. 

It might not sound like much to some of you, and to others it might sound like the worst thing ever since they decided to end Friends. 

For me, it's a pretty big deal. It hasn't happened since my freshman year of college {about 5 and a half years ago, let's not talk about it}, when I decided to take 30 days off just to make sure that I could. And I could, but I haven't done it again since. Until now. 

I want to document this process. This is a huge life change, and if anything, I want to write out my thoughts and observations along the way. 

But I also want to encourage you. Whoever you are who's eyes have landed on this page (and have continued reading once you realized this post was about sobriety). I'm gonna let you in on a little secret, this post is about much more than just giving up alcohol. It's much more general than that. 

This post is proof that change is possible. This post is here to say that if something doesn't feel quite right in your life, if something is consistently bringing you down or making you feel bad about yourself, 

you are perfectly capable of changing that. 

You are stronger than you think, more capable that you even know. Don't underestimate yourself. If you don't like something, change it. 

It might not be easy, but you can do it. 

So here we go. The thoughts/feelings/observations/lessons/etc. from my first month of sobriety. 

And to offset the seriousness, a few pics from this past weekend in San Francisco. 

You're welcome. 

Went to a lovely wedding that deserves a post in and of itself!

In the 30 days, there were a total of 3 times that I noticed a distinct change in my lifestyle. That means only 3 times did I feel a difference, and honestly? That felt really good. Had this happened a year ago, or even 6 months ago, I probably would have felt a difference every single weekend night. 

What does that mean? It means that God had already been working in my life and pulling me out of the drinking scene before I made this decision. And for that, I am thankful. Not because the drinking scene is a bad scene to be in, but because there was a time that the thought of not drinking legitimately scared me because I thought I would lose friendships. 

I can happily report that my friendships have only strengthened. I can't even express how blessed I have been by the support of my friends. 

Reunited with my high school besties this weekend!

This month, I realized that I tend to over-analyze how people will respond to me not drinking. I learned this at a pub crawl earlier in the month, where people either didn't notice or were totally supportive of the fact that I wasn't having any alcohol. 

I was reminded of it again this past weekend, when I met up with a close friend from college. I was fully prepared to receive a loottt of ragging on my decision. But instead, without missing a single beat, he offered to grab me a water. And multiple times through out the night, he told me how proud he was of me. 

I'm learning that maybe, just maybe, I should give people a little more credit. Maybe I need to learn to believe the best in people, especially those who genuinely care about me. 

See people, even San Francisco knows what's up. 

I found that I never actually crave alcohol. Not once through out the month did I want to drink just to drink. I talked about it in this post, but it's the social situation that gets me wanting to drink. It's having a beer with everyone, having a glass of wine the the girls, or yes, even joining in in a round of shots (bleh). 

But given how alcohol has affected me in my life, given how it's affected my decisions in the past, and given how it pulls me away from God, wanting to drink just to fit in just isn't a good enough reason anymore. 

Because the fact is, regardless of what my insecurities tell me, I fit in just as much with or without a drink in my hand. 

So thankful for these amazing friendships that have lasted since high school!

You know what I really learned this month? Just how insecure I really am. It kind of crept up on me this past weekend, not gonna lie. 

It's hard! Making a life change like this. Taking out something that was once a big part of who you were, your reputation, and your regular routine. I hate admitting that that "thing" is alcohol, but it's true! Maybe not as much in recent months or years, but during college, alcohol was absolutely a huge part of my identity. 

When you've gotten used to relying on something for a sense of worth or value, it's hard to adjust to not having it anymore. Whether it's a relationship, a job, or in my case, just being the fun girl who can party with the best of them, it's going to take an adjustment process to get rid of the fear of losing that sense of identity. 

And honestly? I am sure I'm not the first to tell you that any time you are looking to something other than God for worth, identity or purpose, that other thing is going to let you down. It may take some time, but it's just how our world is. The only thing that can firmly and safely hold our identity is Jesus Christ, Himself. 

So what have I realized this month? That maybe it isn't quite to the extreme as it was in college, but there is absolutely a part of me who still looks for identity in being the fun party girl. 

And that part of me can feel so insecure when I'm sitting in a drinking environment without a drink in my hand. That part of me can feel so far on the outside when everyone is cheering their glass, or rounding up for a group shot. 

But guess what? That insecurity? It doesn't come from God, at all. 

You know what does come from God? The voice in my head that says "Amy, there is so much more to you than the fun party girl. Let me show you."

And in the moments when I'm feeling that insecurity surface? I will cling to that voice. I will cling to that truth. 

Life Update - Part 2

Can I just say that I am really nervous to write this post? This is probably one of the most challenging posts that I have yet to write. Mainly because you can't convey tone over a computer screen, and this is a difficult topic to address. But, I trust that God has put it on my heart to share this very big life change with you all for a reason. And so, into the tricky territory we go. 

The topic that I'm discussing today? Alcohol. 

And before we even get started, I want to clarify that I am talking about my personal relationship with alcohol. I am so tempted to go even further with this disclaimer, but I'm going to leave it at that. This is my story, take it as you will. 

Almost two months ago, I heard this incredible sermon on alcohol & the Christian. Seriously, it's amazing. If you have 53 minutes and 21 seconds, I highly suggest listening to it. It might surprise you with what the message says about how Christians are called to deal with alcohol. 

One of my biggest takeaways from this sermon was how the gospel frees us. That's one of the beautiful gifts of the gospel, right? Freedom. Christ paid the price for us, and we are free to undeservingly reap the benefit. 

So what does this freedom mean in regards to alcohol? Well, it means that we are free to partake, and enjoy this unique type of beverage. No where in the bible does it say you must never drink alcohol. On the contrary, it says that we are accepted by God through faith, and that will not change with an alcoholic beverage in hand. 

The gospel also, however, frees us to abstain. And some of us are called to do just that. Some of us have drinking problems, addictions even. And through the gospel, we are freed from the bondage of alcohol. 

There are others of us, though, who do not have drinking problems. We may not struggle with addiction, and yet God may still call us to abstain. He has his reasons, and we may never understand. But regardless the reason, the gospel will free us to abstain, just as it may free others to partake. 

As I sat and listened to this sermon, I strongly felt the freedom to partake. I had struggled with alcohol in the past, but I was currently walking in a season of responsible drinking. And therefore, I felt perfectly convinced that alcohol did not affect my ability to walk in the Spirit. 

It had interfered with my walk in the past, though. I had previously turned to alcohol for comfort. Not even alcohol itself, or the feeling of being drunk. But instead, I turned to the social setting that alcohol provided. I turned to the constant affirmations that I received while drinking. 

"You're so fun!" "You're so cool!" "I love hanging out with you!" 

And even beyond that, I turned to the attention that I got from men while drinking. I turned to the flirtatious nature that occurs, the compliments that come, and yes, even the physical intimacy that can come from one too many drinks. 

I am not proud to admit these things, but they're true. They're a part of my past, mainly the part before I truly met Christ. But I would be lying if I said there was no overlap. It wasn't quite as black and white as I would have hoped. I had a lot of deeply ingrained habits, and these habits didn't go away over night. 

This habit of turning to the social setting of drinking for comfort, confirmation and affirmation was one that took a long, long time to go away. 

But as I sat listening to this sermon, I thought it had. I thought I was free, free to partake without idolizing the atmosphere that alcohol brings. 

Until the celebration of my birthday. 

What started as a fun day of wine tasting didn't end that way. I found myself staring straight at a girl that I thought I left behind. Hence, this post. 

I am not saying that alcohol is bad. I am not even saying that getting drunk is bad. But, I am saying that for me, it is. For me, that one drink too far can take me into a dark, dark place. And that one drink isn't necessarily the drink that makes me "drunk." Sometimes, one drink is all it takes to get there. Other times, it's more. 

But quite frankly, that place scares me. That place where I willingly stray from God's voice. That place where I can look Him straight in the face, and say God, You are not the comfort that I want right now. 

I woke up the morning of my birthday feeling so incredibly disappointed with myself. 

I felt so unworthy of God's love. And that is a horrible feeling that I wish on none of you. 

But, I learned two things on that day. God so graciously tore through the walls of my guilt, shame, and regret to scream His truth into my ears. 

And what did He scream to me? 

One: You are NOT defined by your mistakes!

We all make mistakes. Sometimes they're made soberly, sometimes drunkenly. But regardless, we are not identified by our mistakes. We are not even identified by our accomplishments!

We are identified by Christ, and Christ alone! And I cannot even express how difficult it was for Him to drill that truth into my head. But the fact is, I was the same daughter of Christ that I was before my birthday celebration as I was after. 

Nothing can change that, nothing. 

And two: You are free to abstain!

He took me back to that sermon that I had heard back in May. He reminded me of the words, and more importantly, He reminded me of their truth. 

I am free to abstain! That washed over me with such peace as I realized that if alcohol turns me into a person that I don't want to be, I don't have to drink it! 

Sure, it may be a huge part of the culture around me, but that doesn't matter. My God is the most powerful thing in this universe, and if He says that He will help me abstain, then I believe Him. 

And so, as of my 24th birthday, I am no longer drinking alcohol. I now have a more tangible understanding of the Christian freedom that the gospel brings, and I could not be more thankful.