Dripping Grace

Grace_Upon_Grace_MissindeedyWhen do you feel God dripping His grace on you?

I feel it when I am as low to the ground as a human can get without becoming a part of it.

To those of us who have messed up – and good – and felt mercy in a palpable way, that grace is a gift of great significance.  The relief that floods in after being forgiven can bring me to my knees.

At no time is grace more evident to me than when I, in my desperate attempt to matter, muck it up with others I love. It is then that I deserve nothing but condemnation. And instead, I hear, “That’s okay.  We all make mistakes.”  Praise God for His mercy, through others, in those moments.

Why am I surprised when, time and time again, while working through an inward struggle, I crack open my Bible to read and find The Very Verse needed to both convict my heart of my rebellion and encourage my heart of my redemption?

Grace.

In spades.

Right there.

Dripping onto me right from The Very Word  itself.

Yes indeedy.

Drip Your grace onto me, Father God.

Please.

And make my own heart willing to drip it onto others with abandon.

Love, Mercy

Dear Hurting,

I love you.

You are never too far away.

You have fallen.  Let me help you up.

What you have done, can indeed be forgiven.

I will never leave you.

I will not break my promises.

I don’t lie.

I am here.

Always.

Love,

Mercy

 

Have You Called Your Mother?

Mother_Call_Her_Missindeedy

The Nana and I have fought, and hard, for our relationship over these last 40 some-odd years.  It’s been worth it.

Where we are now?  It’s a good place.

There was a period of time, an altogether-too-long period of years, where my mama would be the last person I’d call for advice, comfort, or inspiration to carry on.   Is that a harsh thing for some of you mothers to read?  I’m sorry.  It is a true story.  One that, I hope, makes what I write next, about my mom, all the sweeter.

Ours is a relationship redemption story, if there ever was one.

Walking down that road of pending motherhood, I realized that all of these hopes and dreams that I had for my own sweet children, were tied up tightly with every fiber of my being. And that was a frightening revelation, a scary prospect, and a depressing way to behold the future of my children. Does that make sense to some of you? The thought overpowered me that, “I was only going to be able to do the best that I could with what I had.”

Sadness permeated my heart at that thought, followed by no small amount of resentment.  I didn’t feel like my mother had prepared me for this mighty job that I now had.

And, at that point in our relationship, I didn’t feel that I could or would ask her for her help. Nor did I think, for a moment, that she would have any constructive or encouraging words of wisdom to share.

Redemption sometimes comes unexpectedly. As I lay with my firstborn nursing him in the wee hours one morning, it dawned on me that my mama truly did do the very best that she could with what she had.

That brought a softening to my heart.  And, ultimately, opened the door to some Grand Scale Healing in our relationship.

Is it sunshine and unicorns now?

Nope.

It is progress.  And Love.  It’s a blooming friendship built on the hope of continued trust and a committment to slather on the grace whenever and wherever.  It’s all of these things, and so many more, wrapped up together to strengthen the fibers of my being.

And, hopefully, hers too.

Now?  I do ask her. All the time, it seems, I ask her what she thinks I should do, could I have handled this better, which outfit should I wear to this event. It’s almost like these last 8 years or so, we’ve been making up for lost time, cramming each interaction with as much mother-daughter love as it can possibly hold.

And I am deeply grateful.

My mother, The Nana, my mama?  She is a gift to me; a precious gift that truly does keep on giving, with each new day that we spend knowing that we are mother and her daughter.  This redeemed relationship is a gift from the God who sees; and isn’t afraid to reach right in and continue to draw us closer to one another, and to Him.

Dear Mama,

I love you.  I’m so glad you’re MY mom. 

Now, turn on your phone, you’re about to receive a call.

Love,

Pooh