Moments in Grace

There are days. Days when you feel like you just want to quit.  Life. And you think, there must be something I'm missing. Some secret to success, some plan of action that smooths out all bumps, that makes easy the hard, gritty of this life. There must be. So I ask Cathy, this mom of six with three that have flown her nest, she knows this struggle of homeschooling six kids and the messy of life. I ask, "How?" And her words full of grace and truth reply, "I have no words of wisdom for you.  It's hard.  Somethings in life you just have to go through." Yes. And I say, "My friend, those are words of wisdom.  They are." Because sometimes in life, people can't give you directions to the easy path.  Because sometimes there isn't one. And it's only when you finally accept the path you're on, and that it just might be rocky, and your shoes might split open, bleeding toes and blistered heels, and when you accept that th

One of the things about perfectionism is that it sucks the life out of you. It steals your joy. It robs you of grace. And the Joy of Lord is to be our strength. So, if someone stole it, you're not going to be able to stand. You can't stand against the struggles of life. You can't endure enemy attacks.  But maybe the biggest enemy sometimes, is me. I'm the one fighting to prove something.  Fighting to be perfect. But somehow my foot gets into my mouth more than I'd like it to. And I'd rather not chew toenails but this foot keeps finding mouth, and words better left unsaid come spewing. And how do you grasp groping sentences from sifted starlight flowing, and how do you make sense of messes that are mostly your own making? This weekend I've been wiping walls covered in smudges from small fingers.  Painting fresh color over all the dull of house and life and moaning.  Moaning about me. And so joy has been eluding me these hours and makin

We were driving down the highway, sun filtering through glass, looking deep into leaves putting on their beautied best, and dancing warm in sunlight. We're looking, longing for...light and beauty to filter into eye and soul and penetrate from tree to me, and golden silence hanging. And then, I hear it, "These trees, they are beautiful, right?  But they do this, they change colors because...because they're dying?" "I mean, God, He planned it this way, they only become beautiful when they are dying?" And why is it so true? That this, all this glory, is only seen in the dying. And I think of all the losses we've had, all the people who have gone on to Heaven these past two years, and I see it, this glory.  This reminding that it's only through death that we can finally enter life. This beauty in death that is seen only in Christ.  And this death becoming life, and beauty. And Jesus said,"Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the gro

Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. We live in a house that is slightly cramped for eight people.  It has three bedrooms, one of which will soon be holding four boys in a space that is well, tiny. They have one duo bunk bed and they rather enjoy sharing.  It's me who sometimes struggles with this thing of treasure. We have lived other places, in other houses that were bigger but this treasure lesson is rarely learned without the losing of something.  When we were first married we lived in my Grandma's house in the upstairs which had been converted into a one bedroom apartment.  When we discovered we were pregnant, we thought that we needed a bigger place, a much bigger place, because this baby couldn't possibly live in this tiny apartment.  So, we set out on our journey to find a house that we could afford, or maybe not afford but what we thought we needed. We found a small ranch house that would have been great, but my wonderful husband wanted so

In a week full of doctor's appointments, house painting, homeschooling, soccer games, dance practice, and crazy mess, it's easy to lose your peace and joy.  Holding on to it is the hard part. As the week wore on amid the mess of ripping apart rooms to paint them, the interruption of  doctor's appointments, schoolwork uncompleted, and still holding on to peace until... There was this uninvited house guest. As I was going up to bed late Thursday night, bleary-eyed, and exhausted, I went down to the basement laundry room to get pajamas.  I stopped by the adjacent game shelf and that's when I saw the evidence, we were hosting a house guest.  A small, furry, long tailed guest that incessantly chews with his mouth open and leaves behind crumbs of drywall and wood.  As I stood there gaping at this small guest's dinner leftovers, I could feel the peace begin running right out through my toes.  And this anxious knot in my stomach, churning, and tentacles grasping at

Tired.  I'm so tired today.  Perhaps it is the bleak, rolling gray clouds.  Or the overwhelming mess in my house from a weekend of painting walls, but nonetheless, tired is where I'm at. But I've been tired before.  Tired of trying to keep up the rules. Tired of trying to do it all right. Tired of trying to make my children holy (yes, I've even done that). Tired of trying. But when you finally get tired, that is the place when you finally realize you need rest. And you begin to see that all this working and struggling in your own strength is not bringing you any closer to peace, grace, or holiness. Then, there is only one thing left to do, Trust. This thing of trusting God with your life, it will change you. It doesn't mean sitting around doing nothing, it means learning to trust God to do it in you and through you. Living in the Spirit means that I trust God to do in me what I cannot do myself. Our biggest problem is that we always think w

So Christ has truly set us free.  Now make sure that you stay free, and don't get tied up again in slavery to the law.  Galatians 5:1 I didn't.  I wish I could say that I stayed free, but that would be a lie. I've spent way too many years still chained to the law. I knew that Christ had set me free from my sins by His death on the cross.  I knew I couldn't earn it or deserve it. It was a free gift. But then something happened.  In in all my rejoicing over my freedom, all I wanted was to live for this God who had saved me.  I wanted to thank Him, praise Him and what gift could I give? And then I came up with an idea.  This was my first mistake. If I could just be perfect, then my life would really give Him glory. So I set about to accomplish this task. Making myself perfect for God, because I wanted to be holy, and well isn't that what you do?  Aren't we supposed to be holy like Him? I would tell you of all the rules I tried to keep and fail

You know how it is, two steps forward, one step back. And all this talk of grace and change and it was sure to be tested. The day broke in an off kilter stance.  Something just didn't feel quite right. I think it was the fungus growing in my heart.  The one breeding ungratefulness and complaining. And I know where it started.  One little word spoken about an old wound, and overnight, fungus appears. And didn't Jesus tell me that? He said, "It's not what goes into your mouth that defiles you; you are defiled by the words that come out of your mouth." Matt. 15:11 Because our words will always betray what is really in our heart. And this small word about an old hurt and ungratefulness is growing.  I'm thinking about what I think I deserve in that situation, and this rotting pride and stinking ungratefulness, it grows roots. I knew from the moment my feet hit the floor this was going to be a battle, a battle for my heart. The kids sensed it too

My house is full of art today. Not the kind you buy in a store, but more beautiful still. Five little sets of hands creating, scraps of paper, backyard leaves, acorns stuck to paper. And each time I walk by these works of art, I am amazed. It almost takes my breath away. I am amazed at this small wonder, this art that fills my home, because for so many years this house was empty of art. And I liked it that way. Empty of Life.  I wanted it tidy. And Art, well, it makes a big mess. So there was no painting, no markers, no cutting scraps of paper into shapes, all this caused messes that I had to clean up. Me, always sweeping all this mess under the rug. But these kind of messes never really go away. Me, I wanted it neat, and clean and easy.  But neat, and clean and easy are also very, very Empty. And so this new Art, it is unbelievable.  It is unfathomable, because I love it. How can this be? This Grace is changing me. It is changing me when I least expec

The last rays of a perfect golden fall day were fading into a clear sky. Standing outside the front door, I've been busy cleaning the garage, sweeping. In the hustle of the moment I hear a voice behind me saying, "Look, Mama!  Look what I got you!" A sweet boy voice of the three year old speaks into the crisp air.  I love this voice.  This voice I wish I could wrap in a box and tie with a ribbon to place on my shelf.  Then I could go and open it over and over again.  I turn and look at this shy smile grinning up in pleased excitement.  In small cupped hands, I see the gift. Fragile, white fluff connected to a withered stem. Dandelion seeds. "See them?  See them?  I got it for you! Here take it!" And I do.  And I hold the crumbling pieces of fluff and marvel at the beauty of this moment. Because it's not that I love dandelion seeds.  I don't.  And really I don't need them. Or like them. But I love this boy.  This small boy full