She reached her little, brown arm over and pulled me close. “One more minute.” We were on bonus minute 3 of pre-naptime snuggles.
I closed my eyes and pressed my face against her cheek. Breathed deeply hoping to catch one more whiff of the long past newborn scent. I felt her tight curls against my forehead. “Yes, Esther, one more minute.”
Every moment with her is grace. Every moment is grace. I forget.
Food doesn’t feel like grace when I have to cook it. Clothes don’t feel like grace when I have to fold them. Children don’t feel like grace when I’m changing diapers.
But situations don’t change truth. Every piece of each day I call life is grace. Straight from Him.
I haven’t blogged in awhile. There are seasons when He’s speaking to me, but I don’t have the energy to formulate it into words.
Jeremy and I have talked about margins lately. Where are mine?
When life gets too busy grace seems too small. When I take the cross for granted I make grace too small.
Slow. Margins. Gospel. Grace.
He’s freed me not to miss it!
“For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.” (John 1:16)
The long hike down Jockey’s Ridge last week (Notice Esther)!