Life is inconceivably finite and minute. We are puffs of smoke. Yet, the ember extinguished can be so bright, profound, and blessed that a small moment on Earth leaves an impact. A life fully lived is a testament to God’s creation. I know that throughout my teens and twenties, I built my life upon shifting sands. I would seek the ideal, not risk, and had no firm foundation. As it goes, with age comes wisdom.
It is hard to fathom that I’m heading into my mid-forties. What is life that it passes so quickly? Youthful fancies make us believe we will have all the time in the world. Midlife reminds us how dear life is and forces us to carve out space for things that matter – people that matter. The design of humanity is to live in community. We are meant to have shelter and sucker with those who immeasurably enrich our lives. Enrichment isn’t fanciful. It is hard-pressed and refined.
I’ve written about the soft edge of grace. Grace doesn’t have sharp edges. It is a weighted blanket in a broken and sleepless world. The grace that God gives doesn’t forsake. It renews, binds wounds, and heals.
Getting married in my 40s was an architecture I would have never conceptualized for myself. Hindsight has shown me that there was no other way it could have happened. Jeremy nor I would have been ready to join our lives together. Vastly different circumstances, yet much solid work and soul inquiry, afforded us a space to be each other’s person. We work on ourselves. And it is grace and perfect timing that God brought him into my life so we might chisel out a space to live fully.
The girls could have been grown, but they are at a marvelous age, and I’m blessed to be a Stepmom. It is the most momentous role of my heart. I look to this as God’s hand leading. I see His etching and feel his presence in the day-to-day ordinary turned extraordinary.
My vivid imagination often leads me toward adventure. I’m not merely going through a day. Instead, I’m taking the ring to Mordor, a fae on a mystical experience, or a pirate on the Bering Sea. My mind is chocked-full of images. I delight in the little things and love to build castles in the air with the girls.
I can bear the weight of the gratitude and be present in each moment. A gift unto itself, the awareness of the good life is ultimately precious. This does not constitute a perfect life. It is in the imperfectness that I find the beating heart of God. There is no better way to live. It is costly and fundamental. You show up exposed, raw, and often bleeding. Yet, there is a respite for your weary soul—a haven of hearth and home.
“Loving a Person”
Sara Groves
Loving a person just the way they are, it’s no small thing
It takes some time to see things through
Sometimes things change, sometimes we’re waiting
We need grace either way
Hold on to me
I’ll hold on to you
Let’s find out the beauty of seeing things through
There’s a lot of pain in reaching out and trying
It’s a vulnerable place to be
Love and pride can’t occupy the same spaces baby
Only one makes you free
Hold on to me
I’ll hold on to you
Let’s find out the beauty of seeing things through
If we go looking for offense
We’re going to find it
If we go looking for real love
We’re going to find it
Love is most readily a verb. It is action, not reaction. It is the willingness to love more than yourself. It is readily opening your heart without fear of plucked petals. It is the hug after the irrational breakdown, the tenderness in the black of depression, the realization that no matter the circumstances, you are for each other’s good.
I built so much of my life on shifting sands. The tide rolled in and washed it all out to sea. The cleansing was necessary. I grasp His hand. He holds fast. Jeremy and I are building a house with mortar and stone atop a bedrock foundation. It takes time, patience, and understanding. This life is good because we choose it to be. No matter how the wind blows or the size of the hail, our house stands. Heather to keep us warm, fire burning bright, and in the shelter of our home, the wind and rain has no effect.
“We’re not going down when the wolf comes to blow if we build our house with mortar and stone.” – Mortar & Stone, Jill Phillips.
“These words I speak to you are not incidental additions to your life, homeowner improvements to your standard of living. They are foundational words, words to build a life on. If you work these words into your life, you are like a smart carpenter who built his house on solid rock. Rain poured down, the river flooded, a tornado hit – but nothing moved the house. It was fixed to the rock.
But if you just use my words in Bible studies and don’t work them into your life, you are like a stupid carpenter who built his house on the sandy beach. When a storm rolled in and the waves came up, it collapsed like a house of cards.”
- Matthew 7: 24 – 27, The Message
Reflection of Providence 