Jan 4, 2014

Learning to Walk by Grace

God's ways are not our ways, right?     

Propped on the couch with a thermometer in my mouth and a cup of hot tea on the coffee table, I watch the downpour.  

My plans for this week before the kids return to school are pretty much gone.  All I can manage to do is sleep between bouts of coughing.  Ugh.  

Not what I had in mind at all.  This week was supposed to be super-productive.  We have a house to pack.  In a month or so, we are moving.  Not far, but still … the house has to be packed.

If I were God, I would have given me super-human health this week.  I'd have so much energy.  And I'd have amazing discernment.  I'd know how to delegate tasks like an organizational ninja.  And I'd be so much fun that our children would love working with me.

But it's raining hard.  The yard is turning to mud.  And I'm sick.  I'm not very fun.  And I'm not God.

I'm tempted to blame myself, to pity myself.  I've said, "I'm sorry," to my husband more times than he or I can count.

He's great.  He's fixing meals, bringing me tea, cleaning the house, doing laundry.  Really amazing.  He's God's gift to me.  God's grace.

I know this.  But my list is still taunting me and getting longer the more I think about it.

I'm reading in 2 Corinthians right now.  I've finished one of my favorite passages, one that gives meaning to our suffering.  And now I read this little jewel.

For our boast is this, the testimony of our conscience, 
that we behaved in the world with simplicity and godly sincerity, 
not by earthly wisdom but by the grace of God, and supremely so toward you.

By the grace of God.  I pause, pray, and let the word slide from my head to my heart.
What would it look like for me to really walk by the grace of God?
To understand that all is gift? To view every situation with wide-eyed wonder?
To tease out thankfulness when the downpour turns the yard to mud? 

As I turn these thoughts over, Piper brings Settlers of Catan to me.  Grace gave it to the family for our Christmas gift.  Grace.  I smile and Piper asks,  "Mom, can we open it?"

And from my perch on the couch I read directions as Piper punches out the cardboard game board and sorts through sheep and fences and cities and houses.

Although there is so much I need to do, this is what God's given me for today.  The rain slacks and the sun glints through gray.  God's ways are not our ways.  I thank God for the pause and walk by grace … for now.

How have your plans been derailed by the ordinary?  Do you want to join me in learning to tease out thankfulness and walk by the grace of God?

I'd love your prayers for me and my family.  And I'd love to pray for you.  Please let me know by commenting or by email, cynthiafin@gmail.com, how I can pray for you.


Fuller said...

Hugging you. . . praying for you (and yours). . .and fighting back tears because I needed this, too. I've faced my own "derailment" (relational, besides economical) -- and my heart is hurting and clinging to His grace, too. Feeling adrift isn't so bad when you KNOW it's in the Sea of Grace, I guess. And - even though it feels "adrift" - my Anchor holds. . . . holds me. . . and I know He is holding you, too.

Anonymous said...

Hey Cindy,
SO sorry you are sick. Praying for you and sending you love! Rest and sleep. Hoping the comment that you are not moving far means that there is place secured! :) Will call soon.lots of love, liz

ebony clark said...

Sometimes when we are constantly moving carring for everyone God sometimes put things in our way to stop us so we can rest. You are and amazing woman and have a very amazing family, and your heart is so in the right place. Rest when you can and God will always see you and your family threw