Southern Airs

The South is an ambiguous Graceland. A place where the words bless your heart, having slipped slowly off the tongues of many a proper Southern Belle, can take on a myriad of meanings with a slight inflection of tone. A place where cadence is an art form and a raised eye brow assumes the power of God himself on Judgement Day. Home to the front pew dwellers, the good ole boys, and green-thumbed grandmas. A place where most people have entirely too much time on their hands, camouflage is a wardrobe staple, and comfort food will make you slap ya’ momma. Lilly Pulitzer reigns queen and monogrammed merchandise runneth over.

The lovely  eloquently says it this way, “The South is a land where grace and guilt sit shoulder to shoulder, where the past isn’t past, and redemption is ever on offer.”

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Ahh…yes ma’am. Journey just below the Mason-Dixon and you’ll find life lived a little slower and the tea sweeter. But, you see, the problem is a picture only paints 1,000 words. Let’s look a little further, past the perfectly manicured camelias on the front lawn and walk through the red door to white manor house to find dusty Bibles on bed stands. Suddenly the leather bound cover and the gold trimmed pages lose a little luster when we peel back the corner to peer below the surface. We don’t have to go far to tarnish the perceived reality to see what’s real.

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Let me be clear with y’all. These words are neither meant to condemn or judge nor are they a universal assumption.  I was born  in The South and raised Baptist. I love country music and I prefer my comfort foods deep fried and smothered. I own more camouflage (with pink trim) than your average girl raised in the sun. I have a monogrammed purse and I’m proud of it! I’ve blessed more hearts than I can count and at times my Bible has gathered some dust of its own. If you ask me, I’d have to agree with the boys of Florida-Georgia Line…it is all about The South. Yeah, I love the crazy quirks of Southern life.

In the words of Ann Voskamp, I’m preaching Gospel to myself.

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This is a challenge. A wake up call to you and me both, Sister. Y’all we have got to get it together! Let’s stop giving Grace in one breath and rationing guilt in the next. Since when did grace (sans the amazing) become so conditional? I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I want grace that requires me to check the box at the bottom to agree to all its terms and conditions. Do I need to sign in blood, too?

Y’all. Jesus already did that at the cross. Once and for all. 

Can we start living like He did??

I’m so tired of settling for being “the good Bible study girl” I could throw up! What are we doing this for? Why are we wasting our time playing good Christians? We’ve got all the right bumper stickers and perfect church attendance record. We plaster on a big smile and pretend to have it all together. And for what? A gold star?

Girl, please. 

God is not impressed with our novelty awards. He sees straight through our facade to the heart. And the last thing a broken world needs is a bunch of Bible trivia know-it-alls with Southern accents parading around in our UGG boots armed with monogrammed Vera Bradley pocket books. And you can insert whatever name brand makes your heart flutter here, but let’s reign ourselves in for a reality check real quick. Jesus don’t care about the price tags on our stuff because He already paid the ultimate price for us.

Knowing your Bible and knowing Jesus are two totally different things, girlfriend. Can we own that Truth? Can we stop runnin’ our mouths long enough to actually start walkin’ out our faith?

Let’s end with this last graceful thought from Ms. Allison,

It was, of course, the perfect metaphor. We were all plunging into the unknown, the South nothing if not a place of infinite mystery. I had come back, boomeranged yet again, still searching for that elusive missing part, the Southernness—otherness—one finds only in Dixie, a land of stark contradiction, where grace and guilt sit shoulder to shoulder, where the past isn’t past, and redemption is ever on offer.

Redemption is ever on offerand all my Jesus girls said, Amen! The truth is, I’m just as much of a hot southern mess as the next girl and that should make me want to give grace that much more freely. No strings attached. I’m choosing to live that truth this year. How ’bout y’all?

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