draw near

Over Gaga's banana muffins, we were reading about grace before school Thursday morning. The 6:15 volleyball girls were off, and the 7:20 crew was eating, and author Sophie Hudson was talking about the limits of grace through sleepy mama and a big mug of coffee. 

As humans we are very imperfect administrators of discipline, and sometimes we reach a point where we think: That's it. This person isn't learning the lesson. No more grace. Only consequences from here on out.

When we say 'I have to draw a hard line with clear consequences, no more grace' we are forgetting that there is so much grace in our consequences.  

She went on to give some great teen-age examples of how His grace can be found in consequences...speeding tickets, cheating on tests....or even in hard situations, like rejection by a group of friends.  

I was in a bit of a fog this week, but the truth of this one has been sticking with me.  No matter where we find ourselves, no matter what we do, we can rest assured that His grace is waiting on us there.  No matter how dark the circumstances, we can look back and search for where His grace was abounding, where He met us, and how that grace has brought us to a better place, ushered in His good gifts. It is not just that He pours His grace into hard times or consequences or lonely seasons...it is that sometimes those hard times, those consequences, those lonely seasons ARE His grace.

Beyond my own personal amens here, if this is true, it is true for my children.  The disappointments, heart-aches and struggles they are experiencing daily at school, some He is allowing, some He is ordaining, all He is seeing and steady, and all He is meeting with His loving grace.  He is growing my girls. He is comforting them. He is proving Himself faithful over and over. He is reminding them, as Lily said again the other day, "I thought this would bring me such joy, and sometimes it does, but mostly I'm just reminded He's the only one who satisfies."

I'm filtering through those shuddering times, those dark spots I shove down or pass over, asking the Lord to show me where was grace? For it was there.

I sit on our sunny porch swing this morning, remembering always the look of my dad's skinny hand on it's chain, last time he ever would come to my house. I remember with such stinging, sitting next to him that day after a short walk to the pond that left him winded, and talking about all of life, shoo-ing off any distractions, fully aware that the moment was simple, and sweet and fleeting.  

I. Miss. Him. So. Much. His heavy, priceless grace that day, giving me an hour of remembering and laughing and listening with my dad, the last moment he was ever chatty.  God, what rich grace...that kind of father. That kind of morning. That hand on my porch swing, the hand of Jesus in my life so many times, so richly engrained, so forever shaped.

I filter through the horrible day we left Haiti, less than 24 hours notice, chaos and closed doors and uncertainty and fear in so many places, the nerve-racking drive to the airport, two of the kids vomiting along the way, standing in that stifling airport trying to make a way, learning of the sudden death of Nikki's dad and the impossibility of remaining as a team, not knowing when we would see many dear ones again, or even where we would go. Going back to that airport room in my mind is almost impossibly hard, makes it hard to breathe still, but man.  A million miles away I called Sharon. And choking through my sobs, she was there and steady and love and firm in grace.  And the next 24 hours were spent close to Uncle Dave and Aunt Marilyn, who had endured through many such nightmares, and they were unwaveringly steady and in the lines etched in Uncle Dave's face and in my mind there was such grace in living that with them. 

In every moment I can ever think of when I felt miserably alone and without friends, the Lord was CLOSER. In every moment I can ever trace that was despairing, His grace held firm to hope. In situations that are still dark, after mountains and years of prayers, I can trust His grace, I can read it, the grace of He who is ready to be sought by those not asking for Him, ready to be found by those still not seeking. The children not my own who are my own, His grace WILL be sufficient for, enough. 

What messes I have made relying on my own strength and understanding, and how gracious He has been to show up still. So that's where I am today.

I'm looking hard for the grace in it, past, present and future. 

And it is there.