We tried out geocaching yesterday. Caleb found the little box.
We also found ourselves on a battlefield from the Revolutionary War. It was pretty amazing.
I got kinda spooked when we found the monument saying it was a mass burial ground. The boys didn’t seem to mind.
Tonight I’ve been thinking about fighting. The idea of death and sacrifice and huge graves full of unnamed soldiers haunts me.
I think my day full of disciplining, fixing meals, and bandaging boo-boo’s is too much. Maybe some days it is. But what am I fighting for? Who am I fighting?
The soldiers who lay under our feet today died for something. They fought for something. They gave us something. Am I willing to give up my comforts to follow God’s call?
No, He hasn’t called me to physical death. He’s called me to be a Mom. To give up what I want, my peace and quiet, the ability to control and predict life. That’s what I’m called to give up.
Most days I don’t want to fight. My flesh wants what it wants. I am so weak.
But His grace is strong. And big. And it fights for me. He fights for me. On Calvary. Right now.
When untied shoes and lost coats make me want to runaway.
I lay down my arms. I accept my fate. And I embrace that “It is finished.”
No fear. Just grace. Grace that frees me to “run with patience the race that is set before me.” At home. On unpredictable hikes. Whatever lays ahead.