Laced With Grace

The push of the days, they crash into one another. The busyness speeds minutes into hours, into seasons, and life spreads wing and fies. A new video game, a stop at two stores on the way home from work, homework in three progressions, and I hurriedly add the details of dinner. How much activity can be crammed into one evening, without something spilling over?

The plan was for the work to be done by 7pm to make way for family movie night: the fourth installment of Love Comes Softly. But life often happens to the best laid plans these days. It was 7:45 before we began, and after bedtime by the end. But how else will family time happen, if we don’t just squeeze it in?

The demands and the desires press hard against me and the clock mocks me with its tick-tocking. The toilet overflows, the man-child erupts, the showered girl needs a towel, and a mama simply tries harder, runs faster, to hold it all together.

The other day, we visited friends who had experienced a healing that just may have saved his life. The wife sat quiet beside him, with the golden retriever who thinks he’s a lapdog sprawled across them both. Steve spilled forth his joy, and thanksgiving, and with humbled inability to put words to any more, he spilled the rest from his eyes.

As we listened, I watched a magnificent hummingbird through the picture window behind him. The petite gracefulness nothing short of a work of art. She perched on a branch for a while, then motionless hovering over the necter, then perched again quietly and effortless.

I think of the bird tonight. I have not hovered motionless and perched, effortless and quiet. But I want to be the beautiful bird that sucks necter from life with the poise and artistry. Instead I am an ant, who scrurries helter skelter after the boot drops. Right up and over those who are closest – but in my way, the crazy madness of the ant pile, biting, stinging. The high-pitch is because I’m not breathing from my diaphram. My chest aches, my ears ring, and my shoulders are a tight-rope.

I speak too many words, overflowing like the toilet. And I need Thee, O I need Thee. Every hour I need Thee.

While I mop up the contamination from the bathroom floor, I wonder how I will clean the contamination that overflowed my heart. The words from Haggai that flowed into that heart only two days ago bite and sting my spirit now. Because the impure indeed defiles what is pure when it touches it (Haggai 2:12-13). I have presented my members as an instrument of unrighteousness (Romans 6:13), and sown discord, not peace. I have looked into the mirror and walked away and forgotten Who I am to look like (James 1:23-24).

God disinfects with mercy and grace. Forgiveness, too. And a new day dawning tomorrow. He lifts me up–I am not an ant trampled under foot. And He humbles me–neither am I the hummingbird, beak dripping stolen sweetness. The bird God watches is the sparrow.

And I sing because I’m happy and I know he watches me.

Recently I have been pondering my parenting as well as the parenting that I received. I hope you will enjoy my perspective on life.

Thoughts on Life from an Older Perspective
(a thank you to our parents)

When I was a child, I thought that when someone made me a promise, it would happen.
When I was a youth, I thought that when someone made me a promise, they must be trying to trick me.
Now that I am older, I realize that sometimes when someone makes a promise, they are trying to protect someone they love.

When I was a child, I did not think through the consequences of actions.
When I was a youth, I thought through all scenarios of consequences only from my perspective.
Now that I am older, I realize that there are two sides to every story, and mine may not be the best one.

When I was a child, I thought good parenting was physical presence.
When I was a youth, I thought good parenting was listening to my side of the story.
Now that I am older, I realize that it is both and more.

When I was a child, I thought that love meant hugs and kisses.
When I was a youth, I did not think that love really existed.
Now that I am older, I realize that love is looking out for someone else’s needs above my own.

When I was a child, I thought that family was people that lived in your house.
When I was a youth, I dreamed of the family that I wished I had.
Now that I am older, I realize that you create the family you have, and love the family you are given.

January 12, 2003

I remember the day so clearly. I was a little over 10 weeks pregnant with our first child. It was a Sunday, and we were at a fellowship lunch after morning church services. I went to the bathroom and was shocked to see I was spotting. I remember the fear I felt and how I tried to stay calm, how I told myself it’s okay, it’s probably nothing. I told my husband, and we quickly finished eating and went home. I called my Mom and tried to search online for answers. I just wanted to crawl in bed and make it all go away. I prayed over and over that everything was fine and that the spotting was just nothing. I was so scared though. I stayed in bed most of the day, and my Mom came to visit, to be supportive and give us a hug. My heart hurt as we prayed and hoped our baby was okay.

The next morning my husband took me to the local emergency room. I don’t know why I didn’t go see my regular doctor, but there I was feeling so sad and scared, not really wanting to find out what was wrong but at the same time needing to know. My heart hurt as we went through the examination and the ultrasound, followed by the news that we had lost our baby. I was having a miscarriage. I lay on the table crying as my husband stepped out of the room to call to tell the sad news to my Mom.

I remember in the following days just feeling as if I was just going through the motions of life. My Mom stayed with me a few days while I recovered physically. I dreaded going back to my classroom. I remember when I did go back how it felt so foreign. My world as I knew it had stopped for four days, and now here I was back in the classroom where I was supposed to act normal and go on with my life. Nothing was the same for me though. I didn’t know how to go on at first.

Nine years ago. So much has happened in that time, and I still sometimes will wonder about that baby. I have always felt that God had a reason and a purpose, just like He does with everything we go through. Up until that point I had never been through such a loss in my life. I had no idea the pain that can be associated with a miscarriage and didn’t really know that many women who had faced a loss. Now when I hear of someone who lost a baby my heart hurts for them, and I’m taken back to that time nine years ago.

I am thankful for how God used those 10 short weeks with our baby to change my heart forever. Through our loss, God taught me to depend on Him. I learned some things that are not appropriate or beneficial to say to someone who is hurting. I learned that carefully chosen caring words are so helpful. I learned how much it means to get a kind note or email, even months down the road. I learned that you never know what someone is going through or what kind of day they are having.

God used our loss to help change my heart to be more compassionate for the hurting. It is my prayer that I can offer comfort to others who are hurting in their lives whether it be due to miscarriage or something else.

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, 4 who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. 5 For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ.” 2 Corinthians 1:3-5

Have a day of blessings!