Grace and Icing on the Cake

The last two months have been jam-packed. There have been few days for reflection or rest, and I find myself longing for a break in the chaos. "Two more weeks!" I keep telling myself that we're almost at the end of the busy season, and that is what has been coercing me through each day.

On Monday of this week, I had a brief moment of surprised realization. I stood in my kitchen cooking dinner and thought to myself, "This day feels normal." I didn't follow that thought with anything else. There was no, "Is that okay?" because I know that it is. I also knew that everyday wasn't going to feel normal quite yet, and that is also okay. The new normal is coming, and that is okay.

Someone dear to me has been traveling a hard road this week, and I find myself wondering why, and then I realize that it is presumptuous to even think that I need to know why. It isn't for me to know, or I already would. I say all the trite things that don't really matter, and then I find that the most wisdom, the most comfort, the most sympathy, empathy, understanding...sometimes comes in silence. So I offer her no words except that I love her with all my heart, that I hate what she faces, that I am praying for her, with her, and crying.

Last Sunday I stood in church singing with all my heart, "Your grace is enough! Your grace is enough! Your grace is enough for me!" Suddenly, it hit me. Is it? Do I really believe that? "Is Your grace enough?" Do I live that? Shouldn't I? If I sing it, if I not only sing it alone but as a lead worshiper, shouldn't I fully embrace this truth? Is His grace enough?

Of course it is! That is truth. 

His grace is enough. 

Everything else is icing on the cake. Why have I not recognized this, fully lived it?  

His grace is enough. 

He is all I need. All those blessings are because He loves me, favors me, wants to give me a great big hug, because I am his kid. I don't deserve them. I don't even deserve his grace, but I see for the first time that, truly, His grace is fully and completely all I need.

This morning, my phone rang early. One missed call from Aunt Linda, one from my sister. I knew. Uncle Donald was gone, passed early this morning. I called to confirm the news, and then I spent today reflecting. This uncle of mine was my mom's nearest to her age sibling, her first brother, four years younger than she. He was quiet and kept to himself, rarely seeking conversation. I saw him often as a child, spoke to him little, knew him barely. As an adult, it was much the same. I wonder what I missed, though I will never find out because he preferred it this way. His choice. I respected it.

I have a funeral to attend this weekend in a town I rarely have opportunities to visit. My grandparents are long gone, but I will go to their home where my aunt lives with her husband, and I will miss them, and I will miss Mama, and I will go to the funeral home, and I will hurt. I hurt now thinking about it. I am crushed for my aunts and uncle who have lost two siblings plus my father, their brother-in-law since they were little kids themselves, in such a short time. I breathe deeply. I sigh. I cry. I pray. I reflect.

And I remember that revelation moment on Sunday as I was singing. His grace is enough. In the busyness and chaos, His grace is enough. When the days start to feel normal and when they don't, His grace is enough. When life is weighing on the crux of His hand, and we don't know what is going to happen, praise Him for the life because His grace is enough. When death and funerals and remembering cut your chest to the depths of your heart and you feel real, physical pain, His grace is enough.

Everything else is icing on the cake.

May 10 on 10 (or 11 on 11)

 Picnicking

Cousin Linda and her grandbaby

 Favorite 11 year old

Strawberry Girl

 Sing-a-long with Mary

Nerf Boys

 Pink

 Roses from Mama

Mama's Bleeding Heart transplanted to my yard

Little White Bells

Grand Army of the Republic Civil War Veteran

See more 10 on 10 Photos at http://rebekahgough.blogspot.com/

When Smiling Comes Easy

There are moments when smiling comes easy, happy moments, silly moments, laughing moments. I relish those moments and count them all as blessings. I hope you do too.

 

Making me smile...

472. Ava's outfits, the ones she creates herself

475. Girl giggles

 

486. I write 8s backwards until I over think it and try to make them right

498. Hundreds of daffodils bringing glory to God!

504. Laughter with small group friends

517. Those purple flowers in the corn field are not some freakish fertilizer

519. That kiss

520. Those owls

527. Beach blanket with babies and umbrella

534. He sings and he's awesome

Recognizing the Blessings

Drained. That's how I feel at the end of this very busy day, but even that is a blessing, isn't it? It is better to be busy than to be idle most of the time. It keeps our minds active and prevents us from pausing too much to dwell on what we think is wrong with or missing from our lives.

Sore muscles. My shins hurt. My ankles hurt. This is a blessing too. It is a reminder of the hard work I accomplished on the walking path, the good for my body things I've done his week.

Rainy weather. Thunder. Lightning. Wind. What do you see in it? My kids see fear when the lightning screams across the night sky and the wind rattles the windows. I see the power of an almighty God, provision for thirsty fields ready to produce new crops, the promise of warmer tomorrows.

It's all in our perspective, isn't it? I never used to imagine myself an optimist, and I don't know that I fit that label now, but I certainly have traveled roads that have taught me to search for blessing where it might be harder to recognize. 

When life rocks your world, find the good. It is there. I promise.

474. The man loves me

477. Listening friend who does not judge when I'm in THIS mood

480. Friends who have no idea how much the fact that they need me is pulling me through this very down day.

521. The tears shed for the good memories

522. Missing her so much it physically hurts...having the kind of mother-daughter relationship worth missing

531. Confession

535. Thunder and lightning

539. Peacefully concluding tense discussion

April 10 on 10

 Boy in his morning spot during family devotions.

 Girl tanning in the living room with Kit and Kanani. Beach umbrella blocking the bright sun.

 Kit and Kanani needed more imaginary sunlight near the peace plant.

 Family Bible given to me by my parents. It sits on an antique gossip bench that belonged to my husband's grandparents. The angel was a gift from a friend this past December after my mother passed away.

Boy I love ready to enjoy the outdoors.

 

 Daughter going all street on us.

 Walked with Linda this afternoon.

 Daffodils. My favorite!

More. :)

 

I bought this blanket while in Mexico on a mission trip when I was 16. I have always loved it for the memories it holds within its fibers, but I love it also for the reminder of all that my parents provided in my life and allowed me to do as a young girl. This blanket is becoming very thin in places, but I will continue to use it until I can only save a corner.

To see some amazing 10 on 10 photos, go HERE.http://rebekahgough.blogspot.com/

Blessed to be the Someone

Lately I've been allowing myself to be tripped-up a little by Facebook and the things people choose to post. The phrase, "it is what it is," certainly applies to Facebook and all social media. You take the good with the bad. Maybe you block the bad. Or unfriend it. Facebook is a place that easily perpetuates sinful attitudes, and I have needed to step back for that reason.

Before I continue with this post, let me define stepping back. I see the positives in Facebook. This is not a Facebook bashing post. In fact, when people decide they're taking a Facebook fast, I find myself to be frustrated at what they are saying to all their FB friends. "I'm sorry. I can't have you in my life right now." I used to think that they were doing something honorable, but now I am not so sure. Here's the thing, Facebook is a place to connect with people. Why in the world does anyone need to take a fast from people and relationships? Sure, if you are spending time playing games and staring at a screen all the time, practice self-control, but why eliminate your influence on the people you have chosen to include in your life? Because, let's face it, Facebook is a part of our lives. Of course, FB doesn't replace face-to-face contact with friends and family, but there is a point where the collective we seems to just dismiss proper social etiquette and graces because we're not face-to-face when we're on FB. I disagree with this completely. But, as I said...

It is what it is.

When I tell you I'm stepping back a little, I mean that I have found in myself a bad attitude that may have been perpetuated by my recent experiences on Facebook, and I need to ponder that and fix it, which may require me to spend a little less time on Facebook, which is what I did without advertisement. Sometimes, people post things that they don't even realize are having a negative effect on someone else. It's not the "I spent a thousand bucks on my kid" posts that bug me (because that is ridiculous on all levels). It's the "I am living my life freely and skipping the hard stuff" posts that get to me. I know I am clearly confessing heart issues, but that's what this post is about. I made a little journey through muck this week, and I'm sharing the muck with you.

Shoo! That's off my chest. Back to what I came here to write today.

My blog has become this place where I muddle through my circumstances, which are not all that glorious right now, so I hope it isn't becoming a place of sadness. I have joy. I want everyone to see that, in spite of all the muck, I am muddling through with the joy of the Lord. On the days that I don't feel quite so joyous, God is still getting me through, and that's what I want people to see.

However...

Some days really don't feel joyous, and I really haven't been saying that boldly. Sometimes, the circumstances of our lives stink. That is the place where I live right now. Stinky stuff on my to-do list. Why not proclaim the hard stuff too? I'm here to do that today. Digging through my parents' house? It makes me anxious, causes brain fog, makes me cry and want to sleep. It's hard. Just plain hard.

Yes, it is a grand privilege that I get to choose to be a part of this whole experience of cleaning out my parents' home. I found myself wondering what it would be like to not choose this, to be able to move on with life and have time for things that I love like gardening, scrapbooking, writing, and traveling. I wondered for several days if that would make this healing journey easier. If I didn't have to immerse myself into my parents' lives and what is left of them, and I could live my life normally, would I heal faster? Better? 

Because, inside of me, there is this part of me that just wants to feel normal again, whatever normal is. I really don't remember. The grief group which I attend with my children keeps reiterating that we will come to a "new normal." I believe we will. I have to believe it or I won't press on. 

In all this process, I realized that I didn't want to make it easier. I would thoroughly regret it. I don't want to live with that kind of regret.

 

After my two or three days of envying that option of choosing something else, I realized that, at the end of the hardest day, I would never, ever choose it. This is what I would choose, not because it is the right thing to do (because it obviously is that), but because I want to do it for my parents. I would bend over backwards to be a part of this process. Sure, healing may take longer, but that healing will go deeper, and I will be free of regret. I am touching parts of them, remembering, knowing, hearing their voices in my head, laughing, crying, and living my life with them as I dig through endless piles of old bills, photographs, clothes, letters, and mementos. 

I can't say that this is enjoyable, though there are parts of it that have brought me joy. It is so good for my soul. I will be glad to look back and remember these hard months knowing that I did this last thing for my parents, with them, honoring their memories with my choice.

I know it could be said that someone has to do it. We can't just let their stuff sit in their house forever.  I know that. I just want to say that...

I am blessed to have chosen this. 

I am blessed to be the someone.

466. Boy in red hat helping clean shed

467. Girl taking time to process

468. Bits of family history learned

469. Ford and Associates Cable TV jacket. Pin holes where I covered Dad's name with a band button still present. My jacket? Daddy's jacket.

470. Breathing them in

Resurrection Weekend

Every year when Christmas comes around, I think to myself, "This is my favorite," but then, as spring approaches and Easter appears on the calendar, I think to myself, "Nope. It's the resurrection. Easter is my favorite."

And it really is. I long for that moment that seems to be so exceptionally magnetic on Easter Sunday morning, when you begin to worship corporately and celebrate the magnificent miracle of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. I always awaken feeling energized, giddy with excitement, looking forward to going to church more than any other Sunday. If I could bottle that feeling and have it every single day, I would do it.

The reality is that we can have some portion of that every single day, can't we? I am grateful for that. Our Father is awesome, is He not?

Since we already knew that things would feel different this year, we took the plunge and changed things up even more by having our traditional Easter dinner on Saturday evening. I have to tell you, it made for a glorious Easter afternoon and evening since we kept the meals easy-peasy. 

I also didn't make lemon pies. As much as we love those pies, I found myself wanting, no, needing, to skip them this year. Eating them without Mom just didn't seem to make sense. Some year, in the future, I'm sure I will make glorious sunshiny triple layer lemon pies and think of pleasant memories. When I was at our local Christian bookstore on Good Friday, the very kind clerk who accidentally made me cry, reminded me to give myself time, which is what I'm doing by choosing not to make Mom's favorite lemon pies.

Instead, I made a Reeses peanut butter cup pie that was oozing with chocolate and chunks of peanut butter cups over a sweet, peanut butter mousse-like filling. It was a big hit among the eaters of the pie (I was not one of them).

After Easter was celebrated, I moved onto Monday, my annual day off. It is sincerely my only "annual day off." I almost didn't take it, but my wonderful husband said, "You're taking the day off," and I couldn't find it within myself to protest even a little. 

I slept a little later than usual, spent some time with Jesus, made a simple lunch, surfed the net, watched "The Sound of Music" with my precious kiddos, gave myself a mani AND a pedi, and, of course, since a mom never totally gets a day off, took the kids to dance and soccer practice. 

It was a gloriously relaxing day, just what I needed to spring me into yet another busy week (though not enough. More R&R is really what this over-stressed mama needs in this tough season). 

Also, for the record, I did all of this in my pajamas, something that my husband wondered about when he got home from work until laughing daughter informed him that I wore my jeans over my pajama pants when I took them to dance and soccer.

Yes I did.

God is good, friends. That's what I found myself dwelling on this Easter weekend. The resurrection is real. Worshiping this mighty God is awesome. Time with family is priceless. If I could repeat this weekend, I would do it in a heartbeat!

I was blessed to take communion twice over the weekend, on Good Friday and Easter Sunday. For the first time ever that I can remember, I took communion with my Aunt Bonnie who attended church with us, an incredible blessing. In all the study of the Eucharist and the concept of thanksgiving that I've been doing over the past months, I found myself pausing and understanding better what Jesus was modeling that first Maundy-Thursday. He was being handed the most difficult circumstance of His earthly life, and He paused and broke bread and gave thanks to the Father.

In all things, I am grateful.

449. Resurrection Sunday!!!

450. God met us in worship service

452. Pink roses from loving husband

456. Grateful child

459. Pure laughter

464. The Sound of Music on a relaxing afternoon