Better than Deserve

My fingers pressed into the shaking hand of my friend a little harder as I watched her pretty brown eyes melt into watery pools. She was sitting in a hospital bed, exhausted and questioning God. “I feel cheated.” She felt cheated of being able to have life untangled in IVs and medication charts. She felt cheated of being able to maintain relationships or to ever have a “normal” life—you know, get married or have children.

My car mumbled underneath me as I waited for four vanilla-flavor- ice-substance cones to be handed out the McDonalds drive-thru window. It was a school night, and I was driving some kids home after AWANA. They live a different life than I did as a young child—a life filled with instability, uninvolved adults and even racism. “Are you da mom?” a little voice came from the backseat. I tried to explain that no, I'm an adult but I don't have kids. To them, someone my age, who is able to drive a car and purchase some snacks, pretty much HAS to be a mom. It’s a life where to a little 5-year-old girl, being an adult means “drinking beer.”

It’s easy to ask "Why, God?" It's easy to wish things were different. In essence, a lot of us think or say, “My life shouldn’t be this way.” I hear a lot of unhappiness every day. Sometimes it’s over petty stuff, like how there are no parking spots at the college, or how we are too stressed because our schedules are so full.

And sometimes it’s over heartbreaking stuff. I don’t like that I have friends who can’t keep jobs because of chronic illnesses that they can’t get rid of. Some friends I have would love to be able to go to school or keep busy, and they can’t. I don’t like hearing someone talk about an abusive relationship, or an absent parent. I don’t like that I’ve lost people that meant a lot to me. I don’t like that I’m 25 and my life looks nothing like I imagined it would be. I feel like life is unfair.

I recently watched Wonder Woman for the third time. For the third time, I was impacted by the a scene towards the end of the film. Princess Diana, or Wonder Woman, has been in combat with Ares, the corrupt god of war. The night sky is glowing with fire and the field is littered with destruction. Diana has just watched her love, Steve Trevor, willingly sacrifice his life to save others by flying a plane filled with lethal gas into the sky and igniting it where it couldn’t kill anyone. Her grief over his untimely death fills her with a burst of intense grief and anger at war, and with renewed strength she lifts a stray army tank over her head. Ares has been trying to redirect her anger towards him to the corrupt people around her, and get her to join forces. Seeing her grief, he throws Dr. Maru on the ground in front of her—the very woman who engineered the lethal gas that just killed Steve. “Look at her!”

For a whole hour and a half, we as an audience have grown to despise Dr. Maru and the cold-hearted man she works for. She has contributed to the deaths of many. She deserves to die.

Dr. Maru’s dark eyes are desperate as the mask she wears to cover deformities blows away in the wind and heat. She is shown ugly and helpless. Ares taunts, “They don't deserve your protection!” And what does Wonder Woman do? She sets aside the tank, saying, “It's not about deserve, it's about what you believe. And I believe in love.”

It’s not about deserve.

In that moment, I can see myself. Dr. Maru is me, huddled before God, with nothing to offer but guilt and selfishness. He sees through my motives. He sees my heart, how it can be selfish and ugly. And He says “It’s not about deserve.”

He doesn’t punish me, because He already punished his own Son. "For our sake [God] made [Jesus] to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God." (2 Corinthians 5:21) I'm so glad Jesus didn't think about what was fair at that moment. I'm glad it wasn't about "deserve" for Him.

Not only does He not punish me, He goes further. He says, “I love you.” He embraces me in my brokenness. He says, “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” (Romans 8:1) The slate of my debt is wiped clean. Yet it’s better than just a “balance of zero.” I’m given credit—a place of blessing in His family. “And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, ‘Abba! Father!’  So you are no longer a slave, but a son, and if a son, then an heir through God.” (Galatians 4:6-7)

Don’t we all crave that? We all want to be fully known and yet fully loved. It sounds too good to be true, but with Jesus, it’s not. It’s grace. Grace, by definition, means undeserved kindness.

There is nothing more ordinary, more natural, more human, than “deserve.” It’s as tidy as a math equation in our brains. It’s Santa Claus and his lists. It’s karma. You do good, you get goodies. 

Treating others as we feel they deserve is normal. It’s easy to be nice towards those who speak your love language or who appreciate your efforts. It’s easy to be bitter and unforgiving towards those who don’t.  Fear and hate are easy. They’re all about “deserve.”

But fear and hate, as easy as they are, are also cold and miserable. C.S. Lewis was wise: 

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.

The only thing stronger than fear is love.  “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love. We love because [Jesus] first loved us.” (1 John 4:18-19)

I am realizing that every day I have a choice: Will I live in the realm of “deserve,” or “grace”? Grace is radical. It’s supernatural, it’s uncomfortable, and it’s surprising. That’s what gives it power. There is nothing more confusing than when someone does something for you that you can never repay. There is nothing more motivating than witnessing true, unconditional love. And Jesus does that for me. It’s better than “deserve.”