Thursday, November 27, 2014

His constant Grace.

The stars above us don't really move. They appear to slide across the night sky from the east horizon where they rise to the west where they dissapear behind dark hills. But in truth, they're not moving from one horizon to the other.

It's our earth that's moving. The ground beneath us is a sphere, spinning in space. One complete rotation is one 24 hour day. We stand outside at night, looking up at the sky and we think the stars are moving, but we're really the ones who are moving. 

It makes me think. When I feel like I've dissapointed Christ one too many times; when I feel like I'm too broken to be used, or like I've somehow overdrawn my account of God's Grace, it's because of where I stand and how I stand looking. It's because I'm changeable and so fallible. 

This life is not always what we expect or what we want, or what we're comfortable with. Our perspective of God and life is always changeable, and often inconsistent.

But He's not. He's infallible and unchanging. His well of Grace never runs dry for you or I. 

This Thanksgiving day, I'm so thankful for His grace. His grace that saturates every part of this life of mine. His grace forgives me, washes me, redeems me. His grace has brought me to this season; placing me right here, right now. His grace numbered and shaped all my days before there was even one of them in exsistence. His grace has brought countless people in and out of my life, each one for His purpose. 

How blessed it is to rest in His constancy.

This is cause for thankfullness. 

Sunday, November 23, 2014


It was July, July 12th of this year to be exact. In the broiling heat of summer, we walked on a grassy knoll near a cool lake. Our faces were hot, kissed by the sun. He went down on one knee. He asked and I said yes. Yes, yes, yes! I said it a handful of times, as if once was not quite enough. It happened in minutes, this decision to spend forever together.

My fiancé is the tall farmer with dark hair. His hands have hard work callouses; he wears old leather boots and plaid shirts. He has this smile that crumbles my defenses.

For some reason I thought engagement would be really easy. As a girl I pictured getting married not living engaged. This season is long and short all in the same breath. It's sweet and bitter in the same moment. The truth is, it's a tumult of emotions. Like giant sea waves pounding and pouring over the sand. You just can't imagine what those waves feel like till you're under them.

Sometimes I'm in my little room and I feel homesick for my home, but I haven't even left home yet.

Other times I just wish he was near; that we could sit together and talk about everything for as long as we wanted to.

I wear this beautiful diamond ring on the fourth finger of my left hand. It's made of so many tiny diamonds that are cut just so. They glisten in the bright sun, and in low light they glimmer. It's crazy for me to wear a ring like this. I milk goats, dig in the dirt, wash dishes, do laundry, make bread and clean toilets, all with a diamond ring on. It makes me think of God's beautiful, constant grace. He gives it to us and we wear it in spite of all our humanness.

It's all my humanness that scares me sometimes. I'm doubtful, afraid, and selfish. I'm forgetful of God and prideful in my own wisdom. And in this next season of life, I will be a child of God with new roles to fill. The roles of wife, and Lord-willing, mother. But I am so inadequate! I'm so ill-prepared. I'm not enough.

But I know the One who is enough. The One who is sufficient.

But he said to me, "My Grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." 2 Corinthians 12:9a

It's so difficult to comprehend how my all-sufficient Savior can use my utter weakness to perfect His power.

It's also difficult to understand why the Farmer wants to spend the rest of his days married to me. 

This season of engagement is almost finished. It's nearly December and winter is here in earnest. Snow veils the hills around our farm. Wind blasts fierce and icy from the north and east. Rain pours cold and heavy. That day in July seems life-times ago.

Today, tonight, there's just 41 more days. Just 41, 24 hour days till the day the Farmer and I vow before God and everyone else that we'll love and live in all our humanness together. The day we vow to live fully aware of our weaknesses, but also fully aware of HIS GRACE. 

Just 41 more days till the day we start forever