the grace of trust

There are days.  Days I forget.  This was one of them.

We had a miracle this week.  One of my oldest is heading off to university because of God’s favor on his life and the beautiful generosity of friends who have gone the extra mile so he can live his dream. But with the miracle comes an unexpected opportunity to trust.

The weight of one more responsibility, one more need, one more thing lands heavy on my shoulders weighing down news that should have been struck through with absolute wonder.  I wish I could tell you my response was one of joyful expectancy.  It was more like: ok so where can we scrape what we need together for this one?  How can I fix this problem?

Moments that steal joy, these hijack attempts to capture my trust and rip my gaze from eternity and fasten it on the NOW, the NEED, the issue and my responsibility in it all. How it burdens time and makes it all lead like, a thing to be drug behind instead of entered into.

They come unexpectedly, these opportunities to trust, catch me off guard.  I was. Caught off guard.  I loose focus on His face and focus on the problem instead of His provision in it. How an ever so slight turn of the lens creates a whole different picture.

These moments I lurch into false responsibility and try to fix things in my own strength instead of throwing up my hands like my five year olds would and say, DADDY FIX IT.  They are a lot smarter than I am often in this area. Lots to fix over here.  How often I need reminding WHO is doing the fixing.  Hint: it shouldn’t be me.

In the forgetting I am so so grateful for grace.

The rains come again with blue white fire that opens up the heavens and arrests my gaze.  All heaven is looking for is a point of agreement with the earth. Raw power releases at the point of heaven’s visible response to earth’s invisible reach.  Suddenly, light tears a whole in the night and reminds me, HE IS.

He’s got it. This unexpected twist. NOTHING can steal my joy unless I give it permission to. Not malaria, not rat-nibbled food, not overwhelming need, not anything can separate me from the Love {and the Joy} in Jesus. Nothing.  And it’s ALL grace.

He is not looking for my responsibility, not ever.  The only thing He is looking for is my response ABILITY.  My ability to respond to Him.

I am making more time to look at flowers and let them teach me of the One who clothes the grass of the field, who raptures my heart with one glance of His eyes, who whispers to me in the wind and rips open the night sky to remind me His visible response is coming to meet this and every other need I will ever face.

Until it does, just reach heavenward, embrace the grace of trust, spin in the rain and learn lessons from flowers.

Today I am counting His gifts of:

  • Clouds that bring rain for the land
  • Big splashes of rain drops to spin in
  • Quiet whispered conversations with one of my girls
  • Grace for when I forget, look away
  • Safe arrivals of visiting family
  • Glory tunnels
  • Laughter at the things that would only happen in our context.
  • Cold sodas
  • Morning coffee
  • Sunset vistas