Grace

I wouldn't say that I'm clumsy; rather, I don't possess the skill of balance...or luck.  Perhaps my middle name should've been Grace.  It would've been Noah's, had he been a girl.  But that's a story for another day.

This morning, I'm pillowed-up hospital bed style trying to recover from a recent fall.  As with most falls in my life, it was less my fault, more being in the wrong place at the right (er...wrong) time.

Steps are my nemesis.  Over the years I've dropped, knees first, while managing to keep a cake from falling to its death.  I've hurled from the top step, after my heel caught the "safety grade" and sent me flying, ironically in a hospital stair well.  Spilled out the door on icy steps and injured myself more in trying not to fall than if I'd just let it happen and landed in the snow.  And I've fallen through steps as they disintegrated underneath my foot.

Even when steps aren't involved, I've gracefully tripped over rugs and slid like stealing home base on the pavement.  Fallen into random holes that magically open up in the yard only when I walk through it.  And of course there was that time I flew off the back of the motorcycle when that lady ran a stop sign and nearly killed hubby and me.

Thankfully most of my falls didn't require much help or healing time. Granted the motorcycle wreck called for the lengthiest amount of assistance and time to heal, but this latest fall has required more than I prefer.  Perhaps it is that I'm pushing 40 and this body just isn't what it used to be.  sigh...

But this go around, I've been dependent on my family as bruised ribs prohibit you from doing all sorts of normal activity.  Like, for instance, breathing.  Now that fluid has set up on my remaining good knee, I'm feeling rather incapable.  I'm sure it's a funny site to watch me hobble, moan, wince, and waddle around the house.  Asking for help isn't my cup of tea though and it often puts me in a bad mood for having to.

I know I've complained, snapped or whined way more than I should.  My family gets the worst of it because I have to put on a brave and good face at work all day.  By the time I make it to the comforts of home, my guard falls and the real me shows.  The one that needs lots of Grace.

Thankful to have this family in my life, even when I don't deserve them.  Yet, isn't that what love is?  Even when we fall short, mess up, and share all our short-comings, they love us anyway.

What better feeling is there than that?

Actually, it's the kind of love God has for us.

A love that cannot compare on any level to even the deepest love of our family.
Forgiveness.  Peace.  Joy.  Mercy.  Hope.  And all-flowing grace.

Even though we don't deserve it.

Sufficient grace...That's something I can fall upon and find rest in.


Linked with: #DanceWithJesus

Women of Joy - part 2

Lisa Whelchel was another speaker on last Saturday morning I was excited to hear. I grew up watching her as Blair, on The Facts of Life.  I rooted for her most recently on Survivor and admired her example of faith on the show.

During her testimony she shared how she found God at an early age. Like myself, she sometimes wished she had some amazing salvation story.  No dramatic turn of events, no bells and whistles, no happy ending redemption.

Sadly the mistakes I've made in life were all post-Christian. But as Lisa shared, thanks to God's amazing grace, he still loves me. He still uses me for his glory.

Something hit me during her talk and I scrambled to write it in the dark...

I found God early because of what was ahead in my life.
I needed HIM for the testimony that was to come!

My testimony isn't how I found Jesus but what he's done in my life. Most of all - HOW he's been in my life. And despite the pain and sorrow I've faced, my testimony is that He has always been there with me.  I couldn't have survived the "life" I've lived, were it not because I've been held through it.

Jesus knew "in this life you will face many troubles" and, through His providence, came to me at early age for the foundation of faith I'd need.

Wow.

I'd never really thought about that before.  That, even though the testimony I share is post-tragedy, He was working within and in the background of my life from the start.  All those years growing up in my Grandpa's church, learning the stories, seeing faith in action, would be tucked away for future use. 

Isn't it amazing when He gives us a glimpse into his wisdom? His divine plan for us?  Even if it's past tense, to look back and see His mighty hand guiding and preparing me all along, is a powerful picture. 

It's one I'm joyfully glad was revealed to me from a dark seat in a large auditorium at Women of Joy.

Faithful Friday: Grace Given Here

Grace is one of my newly favorite words.  I don't know that until recently I truly reflected on what the word means, and even more so, what a gift grace is from God.

While decorating for Christmas, I found a print that said, "Love is spoken here, Joy is chosen here, Grace is given here" and hung it in my kitchen.  The words resonate so much with me and my household it remains there today.

What I've found is that Love comes easily, Joy, of course, is chosen here, but that Grace isn't the easiest to give.  I'm continually reminded of what a gift it is from God

- and how much I fail in giving it freely to others.

There are many definitions of the word
- grace[ grayss ] 

My favorite was generosity of spirit: a capacity to tolerate, accommodate, or forgive


Simply. Grace means to get something that you do not deserve; unmerited favor.

I am reminded of this when recalling that I snapped at both kids at various times yesterday.  One resulted in Tim and I agreeing to disagree, because he witnessed it, and suggested I apologize.  Not a good moment to request kindness from me.

Writing about it today makes me guiltily see how silly it was to even get upset about it.  Yet my stubbornness continues on to defend my actions.

Let me begin by inserting this clause, Tim is a wonderful parent.  He's much more active than most men I know (or at least to hear their wives complain).  And I know, without a shadow of a doubt, how blessed I am.  But, I also know that when it comes to daily parenting, I take a lead on many things.  Being the "bad guy" is one of them.  I'm here more so I'm the one who reminds about chores, again and again.  I'm the one who facilitates schedules and keeps track of where everyone is and goes.  It's me who ensures homework is done and grades are in shape.  Tim is called in as a buffer, when needed, but by and large I'm the one who oversees the management side of life with teens.

Yesterday was no exception.  In all my juggling expertise as a Mom, the afternoon found me leaving one with a task to help with supper, while transporting the other to the dentist, adding on a trip for a few groceries, and rushing home to get homework/chores/dinner all done before the kids had to leave for a youth revival.  In the chaotic mix of what was a typical afternoon, I called on the kids for help.  One was to put away groceries while I started preparing our meal. The other was asked to man the grill and watch over what was cooking. 

Neither of those tasks ended well.

The grill, because it was not being paid attention to, flamed up and burnt the hot dogs and hamburgers to an inedible crisp, causing a waste that even the dogs wouldn't touch.  Luckily, we had extras to start over, but it wasn't until after I raised my voice, aggravated at what occurred.  In the moments after, something nudged me to apologize but I ignored it.  Again, can anyone say stubborn?!

At the end of our busy evening, kids home from said revival, all were looking for something to satisfy their sweet tooth.  One began digging through cabinets and pulled out a nearly soggy box of ice cream sandwiches.  This just didn't set well with me.  And yes, I'll admit in hindsight I shared no grace with my reaction.  In fact, it sent the one responsible to bed before they probably wanted because they felt bad for the mistake.
Now, before you jump to conclusions, my reaction to either wasn't terrible but it wasn't nice.  I raised my voice and reminded them in a not so kind tone to pay attention better, because I'm the one who has the daily frustration of corralling those limited attention spans and keeping them on task.  The ice cream was just the straw that broke the camels back, or, rather melted this mom.

In prayer last night I took my apologies to God, because both the kids were already asleep, and it took me that long to submit I was in the wrong.  As I do daily, I came to him with my shortcomings, humbled at the fact that he so freely forgives and provides GRACE even when I don't deserve it.  And reminded, yet again, how much I need to share grace with others, but realizing it doesn't come from me anyway; it is just letting God work through me to provide grace to others, even when they don't deserve it.

“Now I am putting you in God’s care. I am depending on the message about his grace to make you strong. That message is able to give you the blessings that God gives to all his holy people.  Acts 20:32

*PS - I cannot describe how much difficulty I've had in writing this post, technically.  Every time I'd load the picture, it would be upside down.  I'd type a paragraph, it wouldn't save.  It was as if Evil was determined to keep me angry, to keep grace from entering.  May we be ever mindful of how creative IT can be to distract us, irritate us, and keep us stubborn in turning toward God!