Interrupted by Grace on Day Nineteen

I had another post planned for today.

But God…

Sweetboy informed me, this morning, that he hates it when I “go all psycho” when we need to get out the door for church.


I couldn’t even.

I had to take a minute and just slump down and cry.

There are Sundays where we all pitch in and work as a team to get out the door. It takes the type of planning and forethought that I’m sure even Bobby Fischer could appreciate.

Honestly, the child is right. It’s a rare morning, Sunday or not, without some sort of “For the love, child, GET YOUR SHOES ON” statement being made as I wrangle everyone out of the house. All The Planning is something I’ve let slide. Plus, it wears me out. So I don’t plan often. Or enough.


In that moment, I just wanted to hang up the towel and sit on the couch with some coffee and have a good pity party. Wouldn’t lamenting the fact that God forgot to give me a stronger “planning gene” be a better use of my time than sitting in church with my mind going over and over that terrible horrible conversation with Sweetboy?


And I could feel Him gently nudging my heart, and telling me so.

The kids were nowhere near ready, but I was. So, Sweetman stayed behind and they did church together, at home. Sweetboy was picking out some worship music and Sweetgirl was running upstairs to get her pretty pink lamby Bible, as I left.

Why did I leave without them?

I needed to.

My own heart needed to be able to get quiet and be surrounded by the voices of some faithful. It needed to glide into a pew and worship the God of grace. More importantly, sometimes, this girl needs to retreat and regroup.

I really needed to do that, most of all.

And here’s what Grace whispered: “You are here. Be still and let me remind you of what I have overcome so that you can come confidently before me.”

So, I did. I got real still and just tuned my heart to grace.

And when I got back home, everyone was happy to see me and share what they’d done for “church” at home.

We all snuggled in as I explained how hurtful it was to hear that mama gets “psycho” in the morning. Sweetboy then explained how yucky it makes him feel when I’m rushing, rushing, rushing some mornings. Important apologies, laced with all sorts of grace, took place.

It become painfully clear that even though planning takes a lot out of me, it is in the best interest of my mission field down the hall that I do it. And, I do believe that God will honor my desire to provide a less chaotic kind of morning routine.

Grace interrupted my morning to rain down on me, even as it showed me the need for some change. That’s what Grace does. It loves me too much to leave me where I am.

I am so thankful.

Yes indeedy.


This is day 19 of my Write 31 Days challenge.

A Perscription for Peace


I’ve been digging in my heels quite a bit, lately.  Maybe you’ve been here too?  Both my heels and my heart are becoming callused. And, it ain’t pretty!

I can feel the very moment when I know it’s going to happen. Pride rears its ugly head and I refuse to call it for what it is.

And so, I dig in those heels, ready to do battle.

Have you ever tried to do battle in heels?  It’s not easy.  And, I don’t know about you, but I usually end up on my backside, bruised and confused.

Can I tell you? I’ve become weary of doing battle.  Finally, I’m realizing that I’ve been refusing some of the very things that would remove these ugly calluses from me.

Now, I know full well, that refusal can be a very good thing.  Mary refused to busy herself, instead choosing to sit at the feet of the most amazing Teacher and Lover of a soul that could ever walk this earth.  Job refused to take the counsel of friends trying to get him to see reason, and instead, trusted in this Great God who allowed the worst to bring out His best. Ruth, who refused to leave her former mother-in-law for a better daily existence, dug in and Stuck. It. Out.  And, ended up being included in the lineage of Jesus Christ – The Savior of All!

Those sorts of Good Refusals haven’t been on my mind, though.  What’s been on repeat in this head of mine is this sort of thinking: “I need more time for myself.  I need fewer demands placed upon me.  I need to keep my schedule more open for A Possibility.”

I need. I need. I need.

Allow myself to annoy myself.

Because, I surely have.

These refusals? I’m all done with them!

Time.  It’s temporary. And, I do not even fathom it in its current form. My Maker?  He does.  I can rest in that.  He knows exactly when I need more of it. God will, indeed, provide more time, if and when He knows I need it.

Demands. The ones placing the demands are gifts.  I’m not saying that to be trite.   I listened to the heartbreak and anguish of three friends, Three Beautiful Souls, just in the past few weeks, alone, who lost pregnancies.  And I dare to complain that the “demands” of the children God blessed this unworthy womb with, are too great?  For shame. Truly.

Calendars.  Blurry days and jam-packed weeks aside, my calendar does include some Very Important Things.  Things that must be written in stone for the good of this family that I am blessed to be a part of.  But, if I’ll take an honest look at most of the other things, from an eternal perspective?  They’re really not all that important.

Ultimately, it’s not about me. For one who struggles so mightily with feeling worthwhile, this lesson seems awfully difficult for me to master. I so pray it isn’t always.  It’s almost as if I can write it out here, and see my decrepit mindset for what it is, only to forget it days or weeks later, when life gets All Hectic again.

It’s becoming clear that therein lies my prescription for peace.  I must clear some of The Hectic out.  For the good of this sweet family that has been entrusted to me – and I to them.

Choose what is better.  I want to do that.  Don’t we all?

And so, I will.

I’m ditching those heels and setting myself on The Firm Foundation.

Yes, indeedy.

What about you?  Is there a little too much of The Hectic in your life lately, too?  Where can you see places to choose better?