I cannot earn His love. I cannot earn His love. I cannot earn His love. This topic is quickly becoming my inner mantra.

Funny thing: when you read through Galatians and 1 Corinthians, where the needlessness of Jewish ceremonial laws is emphasized over and over—it’s not always natural to see the connection between the then-legalism and our own. Yet legalism plays itself out in different ways in different lives. More and more, I am learning to see myself just as legalistic as those early Christians.

I don’t know about you, but I’m not completely satisfied with who I am. Flaws far deeper than I’d like to imagine trip me up all the time. I yearn for change. Like the early Christian legalists, I have a list of self-improvements I think would make God happy: A heart that stirs at the heartbreak of people. A self-less perspective, free to love without limits. An uncomplaining tongue…

Desiring inner change is okay. God-pleasing actions are fantastic. Personally, I’m a fan. But all too often, the motive behind my desire for change isn’t all that God-pleasing: I’m prone to be good for the sake of earning God’s blessing or God’s love, and not so much acting in obedience simply because I love Him.

Shockingly enough, my good works don’t earn me anything in God’s sight. They don’t earn my salvation—but they also cannot earn His blessing. In Matthew Henry’s astute commentary on Ecclesiastes, he wrote: “No man knows either love or hatred by all that is before him in this world.” He was dealing with a troublesome passage, trying to explain why bad things happen to good people. Amidst the verse, he drew an interesting connection:

Your house, your family, your friends, your possessions, your grades, your joy, your sorrow---none of these are a reflection of God’s love for you. If you have a lot of goods, it doesn’t mean God is particularly happy with you. If you have next to nothing, it doesn’t mean you’re out of favor. “No man knows either love or hatred by all that is before him in this world.” What you have doesn’t measure your spiritual standing.

For a girl like me, that phrase holds a lot of shock-value. It means that we can’t judge our place in God’s eyes by how our situation looks. If the sun is shining, it doesn’t mean I’m pleasing to God. In fact, it only means that God is gracious. Incredibly gracious. That this revelation is any surprise is a sign of our own sinfulness--the imprint of works-based heresy on our minds.

Still struggling to see yourself in the legalist camp? Let me ask you something: Do you ever assume God’s love takes a nosedive when you sin? Do you think His love for you fluctuates? And here’s a kicker for me: When you feel guilt, do you force yourself to feel more and more guilty in order to earn back God’s approval by the extent of your sorrow?

If the answer to any of these is “yes,” join me in taking a fresh hold on God’s grace. Know that for grace to be grace, it must be free. Take Scripture literally, starting with Colossians, 1 Corinthians, and Galatians--and give your inner legalist a sound beating.