My rock named Grace.
Several weeks ago before nausea hit hard, we were in church. They gave us a rock and a sharpie, with instructions to pray asking for the Lord to bless each of us with a new name. I heard gently, "Grace." It was my instruction, not only for myself but to extend grace to others. I didn't write on my rock, cause forbid it not look perfect.
You see, I have a hard time with grace. It can mean so many wonderful and weighted things. I grew up knowing that you needed to have kindness and love for others, and treat those around you with the best manners. I've never been elegant, but I try to maintain an environment of hospitality not only in my home but around myself. Hard. Some people make it really hard. They're difficult to extend my compassion and love to, and I dont always extend it to myself.
I had some bad days in January, miserable and frustrated because I felt like I wasn't doing enough with the girls, our house was a mess, and I was sick, exhausted, and extremely hormonal. I felt like my manners were lacking and I was constantly putting my foot in my mouth. I was messing up. A lot. Now that I'm feeling better, it's easier to extend grace to myself. However, when I needed to be understanding towards myself and my limits I was severely lacking and angry with what I couldn't follow through on and what I couldn't handle. It's been a learning experience. We all do the best we can, and it's enough, new mercies every day.
I was leaning hard on those new mercies. Its not easy to be kind all the time. There are people in this world that I have to make extra effort to give grace too. The person in the left lane driving under the speed limit. The girls when they misbehave. Friends who do something I feel has wronged me. Even little furry dachshunds who bark loud annoying my hormones because our neighbor moved their trashcans. The knowledge that today is what we get, and the faith that I use to get through and know if I'm trying my best that there is grace enough to get us through.
Mommy brain is a real thing y'all. It will make you forget to do laundry or sweep, or that you needed to get grapes at the store. Tomorrow is another day. It will get done. It's fun to take the marriage carriage back out to the store to get those forgotten grapes. That moon roof, it's a new mercy. That little bean eating her grapes and cheese, she's a continuous new mercy. Watching my husband play with our girls. Extending grace towards a timid dachshund who just needed more love and mercy has made her a changed dog. His provision, His gentle correction, and His sufficient grace incredible new mercies. Our new van, I thought this is way too nice for me. I don't deserve it. It's a possession but it's still full of abundant grace and I don't think I can begin to put into words the testimony it carries.
The knowledge that today is what we get, and the faith that I use to get through and know if I'm trying my best that there is grace enough to get us through. We mess up, and the grace is still there. I don't know where my rock is right now. It's ok. It doesn't matter, because of grace.
