Your Grace Finds Me

Loved this beautiful song I have heard on the radio lately by Matt Reddman:

It's there in the newborn cry
It's there in the light of every sunrise
It's there in the shadows of this life
Your great grace

It's there on the mountaintop
It's there in the everyday and the mundane
There in the sorrow and the dancing
Your great grace
Oh, such grace

From the creation to the cross
Then from the cross into eternity
Your grace finds me
Yes, Your grace finds me

It's there in the newborn cry
It's there in the light of every sunrise
It's there in the shadows of this life
Your great grace

It's there on the mountaintop
It's there in the everyday and the mundane
There in the sorrow and the dancing
Your great grace
Oh, such grace
From the creation to the cross

Then from the cross into eternity

Your grace finds me
Yes, Your grace finds me.

It's there on a wedding day.

There in the weeping by the graveside
There in the very breath we breathe
Your great grace

Same for the rich and poor
Same for the saint and for the sinner
Enough for this whole wide world
Your great grace
Oh, such grace

From the creation to the cross
Then from the cross into eternity
Your grace finds me
Yes, Your grace finds me

There in the darkest night of the soul
There in the sweetest songs of victory
Your grace finds me
Yes, Your grace finds me

Your great grace
Oh, such grace
Your great grace
Oh, such grace

So I'm breathing in Your grace
And I'm breathing out Your praise
I'm breathing in Your grace
Forever I'll be
Breathing in Your grace
And I'm breathing out Your praise
I'm breathing in Your grace
And I'm breathing out Your praise
Breathing in Your grace
For our God, for our God

Yes, Your grace finds me
Yes, Your grace finds me

Your Grace Finds Me by Matt Reddman

verse of the day

missing him

Just missing this guy something awful today.

Monday

"The joy of the Lord happens inside the sorrow." (T. Keller)

Started my week with some quiet time visiting my Ryan, letting God's faithful presence console and comfort.  Our loving God is so good to meet us in our sorrow.

"For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." (2 Cor. 4:17-18)

outside

The weather here the past few days had been absolutely beautiful - green grass and blue skies in between the much needed rain storms.  I made it a point to make sure we got to spend some time outdoors this long holiday weekend - ignoring chores and laundry and the "stuff" of life that can wait - choosing instead to work in the  garden, take Char scootering by the river, and just enjoying a nice long neighborhood walk with my sister, the kids, & the dogs.  I needed to soak in some sunshine.  Soak it into my heart - a heart thirsty for light and goodness and the comfort of being out in God's beautiful creation.

reaching out

Sometimes I get "stuck" in my grief and just want to sit and be sad.  And there is definitely a time for letting the tears flow, that is very important.  But we can't get "stuck" in it.  One of the best - and most difficult - pieces of advice I was given was that when grief consumes, try to be a blessing to someone else.  Really.  In encouraging or supporting or reaching out to help someone else in their time of need we bless them, but we also bless ourselves.  God uses our compassion towards others to comfort them and bring a joy and a smile to our own hearts.  Life is so very difficult.  Trials and sorrows will come.  I have some precious friends going through some hard stuff right now.  But when we lift our heads up and acknowledge the sorrows our friends and companions are walking through, we are allowing ourselves to be God's hands and feet here on earth. And allowing God to work through us, allows His joy to flow through us as well.  Doing the "hard stuff" is rarely fun, but is always worth it.  It's where we truly live.  We feel deeply in the trials, we learn to love passionately in the trials, we allow our hearts to break for others so they can be filled with His love in the trials.  Not until we step outside our comfort zones, step outside our cozy worlds we have built to protect ourselves, step out to take the risks, do we truly experience the depth of Christ's love.  When we reach out to take on another person's heartache and heartbreak, we are learning to follow Christ's example of the suffering and service that leads to the greatest joy of all.  Start small - find a way to bring a smile to someone's face today and see if it warms your own heart with a joyful smile.  And then don't stop there...  😊

little bit of encouragement

widowhood

This article is a little too accurate: 'Lonely' Not Poweful Enough Word to Describe Widowhood

breaking into being real

A few excerpts from Ann Voskamp's book, "The Broken Way," a chapter called, "Breaking into Being Real."  So much truth here.

"There is no fear in letting tears come.  Sadness is a gift to avoid the nothingness of numbness, and all the hard places need water.  Grief is a gift, and after a rain of tears, there is always more of you than before.  Rain always brings growth.

I am sad for what is.  I am even more sad for what isn't going to be now... I'd do anything to get back there and do it all over again.  If only...

The saddest string of words that's ever been strung together: "If only...". I can taste the words in my mouth.  Who doesn't know "if only..."?

But there's no way back.  Maybe life always tastes a bit like regret.  Whatever you do or don't do, there is no way to never taste it.  And though you may have to taste regret, you don't have to believe in it, you don't have to live in it, like rowing a boat that only goes backward, trying to find something that's been washed out to sea.  It's God's sea.  And that means all is grace.

You can feel too broken to be.

There can be a lying snake curled between your neural membranes and his lies can run poison in your veins.  Sometimes our deepest suffering is that voice in our head.

What if the deeper you know your own brokenness, the deeper you can experience your own belovedness?  Not one of us is ever too broken.  

You must let your false self be broken, parts of you that you only thought were necessary.  You must embrace your union with Christ, bravely surrender and trust that what's breaking and being lost is never the eternal, needed parts of you, but always the temporal, needless parts that were getting in the way of you becoming real.

The miracle of becoming real happens when you let all your suffering create love.  When you let the pain make passion.  The passion makes you real.

You are bravest when you speak your unbraveness.  You are safest when you are the realest.  When you are the realest about your brokenness - that is when you can know you're most beloved.  

You are not most loved when you're pretending to have it all together; you are actually the most loved when you feel broken and falling apart.

There is a cross that makes us all safe.  Jesus is drawn to the broken parts of us we would never want to draw attention to.  Jesus is most attracted to the busted and sees the broken as the most beautiful.  And our God wants the most unwanted parts of us most. "Heart-shattered lives ready to live don't for a moment escape God's notice... The sacrifice pleasing to God is a broken spirit." (Psalm 51:17). Nothing pleases God more than letting Him touch the places you don't think please Him.  God is drawn to broken things - so He can draw the most beautiful things.  

"Don't run from suffering; embrace it," Jesus beckons. "Follow me and I'll show you how." (Mark 8:34).

We are all doing it.  Picking up our crosses continuously.  Making Christ present against the lies, right in the midst of brokenness... Believe there is powerfulness in your brokenness.  Carrying your cross is about carrying your pain in such a way that it makes it into love.

You didn't know how to go on - but you didn't grow hard in the midst of it.  

Sometimes it isn't your fault.  Life breaks us.  The fall breaks us.  The brokenness inside of us breaks us.  Your heart's beautiful - especially the broken edges where you let the love get in.

faking fine

So much truth in this.  Lament is a from of prayer - the deepest form of communication with God because you are trusting your Heavenly Father not only to hear your hurts and sorrows, but you are inviting Him to come cry with you.  The following is an excerpt from Esther Fleece's "No More Faking Fine."   http://www.estherfleece.com/

"Faking fine is a much easier way to live.  Answering that everything is fine is much more comfortable than having to be vulnerable.  Even getting lost in the act of service to others is easier than letting others into our pain.  But... I had to redefine this pain. I could no longer hide in my lament.  I had to make the choice not to lament alone...

What kind of Christian silences heartache?  What kind of Christian is unmoved by death?  Christians ought to be the first ones crying out that this world is not as it should be.  When we fake fine, we fake our way out of authentic relationship with God, others, and ourselves.  But lament, an honest expression of grief, is a prayer that God never silences nor wastes.  It is an authentic prayer that invites God to meet us right where we are, not where we pretend to be.  It is the language for the faithful, for we know the One who holds our pain.  And He never silences our cries. Even more than that, He cries with us. 

There will be seasons for each of us when we lament alone.  But isolation - for all of us, is never our destination.  Real strength is not pretending we are fine and keeping God and others at a safe distance.  Real strength is letting others into our brokenness.  Real strength is confessing we need God’s rescue over and over and over again.  For God loves us all too much to lament without rescue...

As I lamented, God showed me that I was not alone in my "unspoken broken" - and I don't think I can ever go back."