drops of grace

Friday, August 14, 2009

Our summer is raining itself into autumn this week. We may still have two more months of heat and humidity, but I can feel with the subtle changing of the light the tipping of our world toward the end of the year, toward the falling of the leaves, toward the birth of our baby boy, toward the deadlines I have set for myself.

I am waking inexplicably early this week, wide awake in the dark at 5:30 in the morning, resting my way out of bed, finding quiet moments for me until Piper wakes, disappointed that Dad left early for work and she missed him again. I woke with him this morning, and we found one another again outside children and work and the many things we must finish before the rain is over.

And then he is gone, and I am left to figure out how to best fill this day and I hope not to let me down again, but the load is overwhelming, and I take a little more time to breathe before it swallows me.

Every day I choose to live or run hiding from my life to finish what I must before I can be.

I don't know the spiritual thing to do, the right words to invoke the strength promised to me for the "all things through Christ," but I know that I have really smiled today, and Piper is dressed and I am dressed and showered and my hair is done and breakfast is eaten. It is only morning, and I have lived today, present-and-accounted-for, listening to the pitter-patter of the water on my bedroom window, watching the soothing gray dropping August into September.

It is a measured grace, this "all things" I am called to do; perhaps the things to be done come in measure too. Perhaps I too often shoulder more than I am meant to bear, when the grace is given me to live and to love and not to run, to stay and not to hide. Laying out my living, choosing the grace instead of the soul-killing grit-your-teeth-and-get-through to some imagined rest in the end, it is a yoke that does not seem easy, but is walking easy for a baby taking her first step? Babies don't hurt as easily as adults, they say. Their bodies are more flexible, not so brittle as our older bones and ligaments.

The gray dawn breaks and I do quietly and I learn to wait and I learn to listen. He is gentle - and meek, with the strong sort of meekness that channels strength - and the rest He gives transcends even toddler tantrums and frustrated goals.

A bird drops a happy rainsong outside my window; I know he is well-provided for. Today I am here, and I will do what I can, let the rain do what it does. Tomorrow is tomorrow and it carries enough trouble for itself; there's no sense hiding from it today.
At that time Jesus answered and said, “I thank You, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that You have hidden these things from the wise and prudent and have revealed them to babes. Even so, Father, for so it seemed good in Your sight.

All things have been delivered to Me by My Father, and no one knows the Son except the Father. Nor does anyone know the Father except the Son, and the one to whom the Son wills to reveal Him.

Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.


Mt. 11:25-30
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Don't miss out on my weekend giveaway, Praise, if you're just stopping in today. Simply leave a comment at this post for a chance at winning this 8x10 print.

Also, I MUST throw out a recommendation for Amber's Friday Funnies post. What a lesson her neighbor boys got!


3 comments:

Carrie said...

Oh, Kelly, HOW I loved this post. My two favorite lines were:

'finish what I must before I can BE'

and 'grit-your-teeth-and-get-through to some imagined rest in the end'. I think this 2nd one is SO easy to do especially when our little ones are so little! :) But instead we should live every moment & enjoy it all!

Thank you so much for sharing!

Megan Cobb said...

Beautiful post both in words and sentiment.

Cassandra Frear said...

Becoming is hard work.

May the rest of God find you where you are and fill your busy world with peace.

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