Grace Walk Australia

Grace Walk Australia is off and running!! 

Learning To Live With Imperfection

We all have an ideal in mind concerning the things we do in life. We have been taught to be conscientious about what we do and to strive for excellence. There is certainly nothing wrong with that philosophy of living. It is admirable and serves as a good baseline for everything we do.

            There is, however, a dividing line between being conscientious and being a perfectionist about what we do. A person can be conscientious and recognize a job well done without it having to be perfect. Perfectionists always sees the shortcomings in a finished task, even if they are insignificant enough that nobody else would even notice.

            Sometimes there is a need for a person to adjust her ideal to a level that is more realistic in terms of the capability she actually possesses. Things can be good, even excellent, without being perfect. Learning to live with less than perfect is important for peace of mind because nobody ever achieves perfection.

            Even God doesn’t look at your lifestyle and expect to find perfection in everything you do. The Psalmist wrote, “For He Himself knows our frame; He is mindful that we are but dust” (Psalm 103:14). To put it another way: God knows that you are only human. Do you know that or do you place expectations on yourself to be superhuman and then feel frustrated when you see that you aren’t?

            A grace walker is one who finds fulfillment in having done her best, given the limitations that life imposes on her. When God had finished creating, He looked at what He had done and said, “It is good.” He wants you to be able to say the same about what you do. In fact, to be able to say so is a godly quality.

            Does it really matter if some things go undone or are postponed? Is it worth sacrificing peace of mind, emotional stability, and being physically exhausted in order to accomplish it all? Does it really matter that much when put into the perspective of the big picture? These are questions that merit serious consideration.

            Learning to live with results that are less than perfect may be an acquired skill that the Holy Spirit wants to teach you. The next time you look at a finished job and are tempted to nitpick and judge it through the lens of perfectionism, don’t be surprised if you hear Him say, “Let it go. It is good.” When you hear that still, small voice, listen and do it. In the long run, you will discover the grace of fulfillment instead of the guilt of self-imposed laws that condemn you over what you’ve done.

(This blog is an excerpt of my book, Wives Walking In Grace, to be published in 2013 by Harvest House Publishers)

Saint Sam

I am Sam. Saint Sam I am.


Would you, could you keep the Law?
I would not, could not keep the Law.
Does that seem odd?
Not to God.

Would you, could you not then go sin?
I would not, could not then go sin.
Would sin not win?
No, I’m in Him!

Would you, should you go to school
And learn to keep religious rule?
I would not, should not go to school
To learn to keep religious rule.

Won’t you go wild?
No, I’m God’s child!
But sin is stronger.
But I want it no longer.

But the Bible says to run the race,
It also says I’m under grace,
But you must run!
But to run is fun.

Does your church have a steeple?
No, the church is the people.
Do you say your prayers each day?
I walk with Him and always pray.
Do you witness to the lost?
I simply glory in the cross.
What about daily Bible reading?
I just follow the Spirit’s leading.

But aren't you scared that He’ll be mad?
No, my God is always glad.
Even when you commit a sin?
He still loves me even then.
Even if you shame His name?
He still loves me just the same.
When you have lied?
That’s why he died.
When you fall down?
He is my ground.
When you’re two-faced?
Even then I’m graced.

I must get off of my treadmill,
Trying to climb this religious hill,
You can stop. It’s not a test.
Life in Him is just a rest.

And you’re sure that won’t insult His name?
No, my friend. That’s why He came.
I want to know Him like you do,
Well, He knows you through and through.

And you say He loves me just this way?
Then I’m going to trust in Him today.

Congratulations, my dear brother,
You’re going to see there is no Other,
Who loves you like He always will,
He took you off that tiring hill,
And now you'll finally know His rest,
That’s how we live life at its best.

You will learn and see in time,
That life in Him is so sublime,
This is not religious talk,
Welcome to the grace walk.

Steve McVey, 2012
Yeah, like you’d want to steal this.

Vertigo Needs to Go

Thanks again for the prayers of so many of you who read my blog. I deeply appreciate it. I'm hoping now that my March, 2013 appointment at Vanderbilt Hospital in Nashville, TN will be moved to an earlier day.

I thought the low blood pressure and high heart rate was bad, but this Vertigo thing trumps it all. A few have written me that they had Vertigo for weeks or even months. Wow! I don’t know how you stood it. After two minutes I whimper like a puppy and want Melanie to stroke my hair and whisper, “Poor baby.” And I want her to sound like she means it too.

My intent isn’t to drone on about my symptoms, certainly not for the sake of gaining sympathy about the physical challenge I’m facing right now. I’m being honest about this journey for another reason. The reason is because I know I’m not alone. Others are hurting too.

In some corners of the charismatic world (not all), a world where I have precious friends, there is the belief that it’s wrong to even talk about symptoms. The idea is that the problem is somehow empowered by the simple acknowledgement of its existence and exacerbated by the mere mention of any details.

I don’t claim to have a perfect understanding of the subject of healing but I do trust completely in The Healer. Contrary to what my Evangelical tradition taught me, I do believe that healing is inherent in the finished work of Christ on the cross. In a paradoxical way that I neither understand nor can explain, I do believe that I am already healed in the same sense that I believe I am seated with Christ in the heavenly places at this moment. (see Ephesians 2:6) I can’t connect the dots between Reality and my experience, but I believe it.

That is what I do believe. What I don’t believe is that healing is so fragile and vulnerable to my misspoken words that I can blow it all to smithereens by saying the wrong thing. Don’t get me wrong. I believe words are important. My own wife teases me at times about invalidating words somebody else has spoken in my presence. I do think there is power in words, but I don’t share the view of some that I must constantly be protesting, “I’m not receiving that! No, I am healed! There’s nothing wrong with me! Ugh, ugh . . . no way. I’m rebuking and renouncing and rejecting and resisting and reprimanding these lying symptoms! I’m gonna bind this and loose that! Yes, sir!” 

Believe me when I say that I’m not mocking anybody here. I promise. What I am saying is that this kind of thing strikes me as fear based more than faith based. I’ll admit I could be wrong, but it reminds me of the old movie scenes where somebody is whistling in the dark because he’s afraid but doesn’t want to show it. If I believe my Father truly loves me and believe that my healing is bound up in that love, I don’t feel a need to constantly to talk like the guy “who lives in a van down by the river.” Many won’t get that statement, but if you do, you know exactly what I mean.

When I’m dizzy and somebody reminds me that my dizziness is a “lying symptom,” what does that mean? I’m still dizzy. It’s not in my imagination. When I was in the hospital, some suggested that the reason the doctors couldn’t find anything was because “there [was] nothing wrong with [me.]”  So would they have had me get up to walk out and fall down in the floor? Or did they believe if I just got up to walk out that this time my blood pressure wouldn’t drop and I wouldn’t pass out?

No, that’s not my understanding of how it works. My view is that I trust my Father. Period. My faith isn’t in my faith and its strength. My faith is in my God and His goodness. Mr. Faith lives inside me and I trust Him and His faith, which is my faith. I have surrendered my body to Him, a living sacrifice. He can do as He will.

I know this approach doesn’t fit with the doctrine of healing some hold, but it’s where I am. One man emailed me yesterday and told me that I’m still a baby with a lot of growing to do. He’s right about that, but I still think I’m right about this. My faith is in the One who holds my life and my future in His hands. I’ll trust Him, fully believing both that He is a Healer and that I’ve got a problem right now. Don’t ask me to reconcile it. I can’t, but please don’t try to reconcile it for me either. It doesn’t help me nor change my situation. What I most appreciate these days is the loving encouragement that so many have offered. They have wisdom to know that compassion must always precede counsel or else their counsel is sterile.

Some critics of Jesus said, “We played the flute for you, and you did not dance” (Matthew 11:17). Forgive my boldness in comparing myself to Jesus in this way, but I’m not dancing to somebody else’s music. I have to dance to the tune I hear and the song I hear right now is a soft tune of simple trust not a blaring song of brazen statements.

I’ve heard from many people over the past few months that find themselves in a condition of chronic health challenges. My heart goes out to them more than ever before. If you’re one of those, don’t feel like something is wrong with your faith. If you trust your Father, that’s all you need to do. Indeed, it is all you can do. Don’t let well-meaning people put guilt on you about your degree of faith or put questions in your mind about why this is even happening.

I heard my friend, Malcolm Smith, say in a teaching one time something to the effect that when he was in the hospital somebody asked him, “Malcolm, what is God doing in this?” His answer was, “He’s being Jesus in a hospital bed through Malcolm Smith.” Yes, that’s it. In our weakness, His strength is perfected. Some corners of the church don’t like that. They’d rather rebuke weakness, failing to see that it is actually a precious treasure that brings the strength of our loving Jesus into a sharper focus than we could ever otherwise see.

I don’t like this situation. I don’t like it at all. There have been days I’ve gotten up and said to Melanie, “No! This thing is not going to have its way with me today.” Then I take a shower, step out huffing and puffing and about to black out. So I lie back down and say, “Okay, but maybe I’ll rest first before I show it who’s boss!”

There have been other days when I’ve felt discouraged. I don’t do well with a slower pace. Yeah, I know I’ve written chapters in books about that. Maybe I should go back and read them myself. But still, I want to get up and out! I have places to go and people to see and things to do!  Apparently, my Father knows that’s not true. At least, not today.

There have been moments when I’ve felt depression. I’ve wondered if this is my “new normal.” I’ve heard haunting voices about the possibilities of what they may tell me when I get to Vanderbilt Hospital. I’ve been told enough to know that, humanly speaking, what the doctors here hope for is that the problem is manageable but they also have said it could be a precursor to something terminal. Thank God, I know my life transcends the human perspective and rests in His providence. Nevertheless, I have had “what if?” moments. I have no fear of death. None. Zero. When I lay on the ground outside on April 15, coming in and out of consciousness and the paramedics could find no pulse, Melanie asked, “Are you afraid?” “Of what? Heaven? NO!” I answered. That was the truth.

I wouldn’t want to leave the woman I love though. Or my children. Or grandchildren. That’s how I think some days. Not often, but sometimes.

So, here I am – “the grace guy” as more than one pastor has called me when introducing me – sitting or lying around wondering what the heck my Father is doing right now. I’ve asked but, so far, He hasn’t told me. So I wait. So I trust. So I hope. This is where all the teaching I’ve done through the years is revealed to be genuinely true or just talk. It’s true. I know that.

Thank God, I don’t feel a need to prove anything to anybody. I am comfortable just to be me. My friend, Craig Snyder, sometimes says, “I’m old and my back hurts and I really don’t care.” That’s a good place to be, don’t you think? I’m there with him, and with others. If God gives me a lightning bolt healing experience that jolts me to my feet with a shaka-laka-ding-dong touch from heaven, I’ll love it. I’ll probably write about it. Maybe even call the book, “Shaka-Laka-Ding-Dong.” But if not, I’ll come through this in His way and His timing. Either way, it’s all Him.

Grace In The Trench

As many of you know, I've faced a real health challenge since I was rushed to the Emergency Room in April after passing out on my patio at home. For the past two days I have again dealt with a severe case of Vertigo - the sensation that you've been thrown into a washing machine and are watching the world around you spinning. It is absolutely miserable.

I was up all night last night, vomiting and watching my bedroom spin like a top. I went to sleep a little before nine this morning and am just now waking up at 1:00. Thank God, the world is standing still! :)  The words of prayer and encouragement from so many of you from around the world have helped to walk me through these past few months. People say that Internet connections are impersonal but I've learned it doesn't have to be that way. I've made some friends here who I loved before we ever set eyes on each other. I look forward to meeting those of you who I've not seen in person yet.

Vertigo is only one of the symptoms I've had since I was rushed to the hospital in April. Many of you know that my other symptoms have been a sudden drop in blood pressure accompanied by a sudden increase in my heart rate (which causes me to black out) and severe fatigue. Until this episode, I 'd dealt with the other symptoms but hadn't had Vertigo in several months.

I've seen teams of doctors over the past months and they all agree that my "condition" is Autonomic Failure but nobody knows what causes it and the meds aren't handling it as well as they should. (Yes, they have tested me for the thing you're wondering about :) AF can be caused by many things, from the manageable to the terminal. For those who've asked why I'm being sent to Vanderbilt Hospital in Nashville, I'm going there because they have an Autonomic Center. Doctors send people to Vandy from all over the U.S. because the doctors there have seen practically any disease that can cause AF. The medical people here in Atlanta believe they should be able to give me a definitive diagnosis and I'm praying that's the case.

Because so many people are sent to Vanderbilt, my appointment isn't until March, 2013. However, a doctor in Florida who has been impacted by my ministry has put in a call to a key person at Vanderbilt to try to get my appointment moved to an earlier time. That's what we're praying will happen. Needless to say, this whole thing has become very, very debilitating to me.

Thankfully, I've been able to keep up the Sunday Preaching program and with my writing. I thank God for that because those two things have helped me to not feel completely disconnected from "the outside world" these days.

I'm not felt one second of fear about this. I have a wonderful family and friends who I see and talk to frequently who are a real grace-gift in my life. I find tremendous encouragement right now from them as well as from reading theological books (right now, it's Frank Viola/Len Sweet's book, "Jesus: A Theography), listening to music and meditating on my Father and the things His Spirit is teaching me, and... ready for it... watching Doc Martin on Netflix :)  (Melanie said, "I can't believe you're watching this. You don't watch anything on TV anymore!) 

As any human being would do, sometimes I find myself allowing my thoughts to drift to the future with "What if?" questions but overall I live in this moment. The biggest frustration for me is that I'm a Type A personality who is used to a very active lifestyle and finding myself at a place right now where I can't "go and do" like I'm used to is something I hate. The Apostle Paul learned "to be content in whatever condition I'm in." I haven't quite gotten there yet.

Finally, why do I post all these personal things publicly? It's not because it's my nature to do so. Truthfully, as a local pastor for 21 years, I kept personal things private for the most part. But when I began to understand grace, the Holy Spirit showed me that it isn't a book or pulpit or camera that is a man's platform for ministry. It's his life. Grace is best seen in the day-to-day ups and downs of living in this world.

So, as much as I can, I try to be transparent about my personal life in an attempt to say: "This is how grace looks. It doesn't shine with a bright luster on a perfect life. It is best seen in the brokenness, the pain, the doubts and the struggles of life. Grace can't be seen in religious professionals who attempt to project that we're all grinning our way to glory-land. The strength of grace is best seen in the trenches, amidst the mud of misery and mystery. Grace reaches down to where we are and doesn't always lift us up out of our situation, but rather holds and hugs us right where we are. Grace knows where I am and where you are. He was tested in every way, like us. So, having been here, He knows how to guide us through it until we find ourselves on the other side. In the meantime, the Gentle Hug of Grace sustains us with the certain sweet assurance, "I will never leave you or forsake you." And oddly enough, at times like this, that assurance is enough.