My sweet grandma, always so good with words, who always has an open smile in photos because she loves to share her stories, is understanding our words but unable to form her own words.
Seizures, Alzheimers, mini strokes...the doctors explain...and in just a few words are hope is deferred.
I share my heart with a sweet friend who loves on me with her prayers and her heart that knows me so well. We remember how, even in the storms, God is faithful.
He has prepared us so graciously for the hard moments, reminding us that eucharisteo, a life of giving thanks and counting our blessings, is not always easy, but still possible.
The soothing aroma of lavendar and a warm bath invites me to sink in and wash away the pain and the hurt and the tears. I soak it in until the water cools down, slowly willing myself to return to the moments that I wish I didn't have to endure.
My husband sits in bed with our two beautiful children cuddled up close to their daddy. His eyes lock with mine as I walk in and he knows I am hurting. He invites me to join this circle, the one formed by love and held together by the One who has blessed us more than we deserve.
My daughter leans over her daddy and reaches her arm out to me. Her eyes search my ownand somehow, at only three, she really sees me. I kiss her and she smiles, a smile that says, "I know you're sad, mommy, but I love you."
And I remember Ann's words, that sometimes the moments that are hard are better than the moments that are easy, because they remind us of grace and that in our deepest pain, we get grace enough to bear it - when we run into the arms of Grace who bore it all, into Him who is more than enough.
I wonder at how God has prepared me for a time when I would again have to praise Him not for the good things, but for His love that is goodness enough.
Even in this storm, I will trust in the One who holds my tomorrows and praise Him for grace enough to bear it and for Him who is more than enough.
To you, O LORD, I call; my rock, be not deaf to me, lest, if you be silent to me, I become like those who go down to the pit.
Hear the voice of my pleas for mercy, when I cry to you for help, when I lift up my hands toward your most holy sanctuary...
Blessed be the LORD! For he has heard the voice of my pleas for mercy.
The LORD is my strength and my shield; in him my heart trusts, and I am helped; my heart exults, and with my song I give thanks to him.
(Psalm 28:1-2, 6-7)
Oh Stephanie my heart and my prayers go out to you. wish I could give you a great big hug. but my prayers will do that. this post is beautiful, even though it's sorrowful, it reveals the depth of God and His Goodness that never changes.
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