2013 ~ the year of ...

Grace.

A quick click over to Merriam-Webster, and you must scroll down in order to see all the many ways to define grace.

Unmerited divine assistance given to humans for their regeneration or sanctification.

A virtue coming from God.

Ease and suppleness of movement or bearing.

A short prayer at a meal, asking thanks.

The list goes on ...

While I'm grateful for God's grace, and while I acknowledge that without God I am graceless, and while I hopelessly strive for elegance and poise (with clumsy hands and feet) and while I have trained up my kids to thank God for each meal ... that isn't the grace I'm pondering today.

The grace that I want more of in my life will be played out in the face-to-face and heart-to-heart interactions of my everyday moments that fill this coming year.

The courtesy shown to the unsmiling check-out lady who has been on her feet all day.

The good manners shared with the waiter who needs to be reminded.  Repeatedly.

The respect shown to the staff at school, those in authority over my kids.  And those who clean up after them.

The kindness for the grumpy lady mumbling behind us in the line at the deli.

The laughter for my kids when they are acting like kids.  Boisterous, bouncy, burping kids.

The consideration for my husband after a rough day and his need for "down time".

The acceptance of what my children have to offer as their best and remembering that they are still learning, still training, still growing.

The forgiveness offered when my feelings are hurt or my heart is wounded.

The generosity toward myself to make mistakes and try again.

The grace given to those in my life ... to miss the mark and still be loved.

That's the grace I want to cultivate in the next 365 days.  Gratefully, God's grace is new every morning  and with His grace, there is promise that in the coming days, I just might have the hope of being more courteous, mannerly, respectful, kind, considerate, accepting, forgiving, generous ... and grace-filled.

As for the nimbleness and finesse ... I'm not going to hold my breath.

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Prompt #1 - Choose a word to live by this year.

small things {her part}

small things #14 ... her part

Her hair parts straight down the middle.  Front to back with each hair in place on either side.  A precise part.  A perfect part.  A severe part.

I can see where each tooth of the comb straightened her strawberry blonde hair; making little lines.  Little furrows.  She stands at the mirror, comb in one hand and a squirt bottle in the other - looking for any renegade hairs that refuse to follow the crowd.  A furrow in her brow, as well.

This exact and meticulous part is a reflection of my girl.  She received an double dose of perfection upon her birth.  A generous portion from her mommy and a liberal serving from her daddy.  We apologize on a regular basis for this gift.

She looks in the mirror and studies the color of her turquoise rhinestone earrings.  Do they match the blue-green of her shirt?  Almost.  She twists her lips into a pout, considering a change to her jewelry.  She settles on the silver and gold hoops.

"They go with everything, right Mom?"

This meticulousness is evidenced in her school work.  Practicing her y's and h's to get just the right loop.

This accuracy is revealed in her gymnastics.  She has the pointiest toes and the pointiest fingers.

This precision is displayed in her attitude toward herself and others.  Measure up or tears are sure to follow.

She fears being 2 minutes late.  She cringes at not having her homework finished.  She chews on her lip  when faced with a correction.

I long to ease this anxiety and show her that a little failure doesn't cause the world to come to an end.  I wish I could help her relax and go with the flow a bit more.  I want to fluff her hair and free her from this rigidity and perfectionism.  But that's God's job.

And I know that I can trust her to Him.  He has freed her mother in amazing ways.

Her part ... evidence of her discipline.  And her need for grace.  Just like the rest of us.

Snapshots of the Heart ~ Grace

Fill in the blank:

The one place in my life where I know better, but I haven't been able to do better is _______________.

Think for a moment ... what would you admit to falling short on?

For me, it's grace.

I have high expectations for myself and that tends to trickle over onto the other people in my life and my expectations for them.  And seeing as neither I nor my unexpectedly expected upon family members can measure up to the standards I often set, disappointment quickly follows.

This issue of grace has long been an area of groaning in my life.  But it's also a virtue that God knows I need and He has been faithfully working on this area of my life ... for longer than I can remember.

When I beat myself up for not being the Mom I want to be (snapping a kids and responding with sarcasm), God reminds me to breathe in His grace.

When I grumble about my kid missing the mark (quite literally ... please don't pee on the floor ...), God reminds me to breathe out His grace.

When I disappoint a friend by forgetting a birthday (and then forget to follow up with the belated card), God reminds me to breathe in His grace.

And when a loved one speaks words that hurt (and their actions echo that hurt even more loudly), God reminds me to breathe out His grace.  Again.

Grace in.  Grace out.  Grace in.  Grace out.  Grace in ...

Grace out.

As this rhythm of grace renews my heart, it can't help but trickle over into the lives of the people in my life.  My kids.  My husband.  My family and friends.

We all delight in this gift of grace. This gift that God gives to us which is more than we deserve, with no price tag attached.  It's ours to accept ... and ours to extend.

"I pray that my children may grow in the grace and 

knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ." 

2 Peter 3:18

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Prompt #5 

Thankfulness {day two}

The chime of the clock tells me it's two o'clock.  The baby girls went down for naps (or in Ashley's case, a mandatory stay-in-your-room-and-keep-the-volume-level-down-time) an hour ago. The past sixty minutes have not been idle.  I have travelled upstairs several times to shush Ashley, fold laundry and check on the sleepers.  I washed up lunch dishes and traded out a load of laundry.  I spent a few moments scooping up the toys that have been pollinated on the steps and under the dining room table.  I made a quick phone call and made an oops-I-forgot grocery list.  My to-do list sits on the kitchen counter and demands some attention.  But.

But.

But.

The corner of the couch is quietly calling my name.  For just forty-five minutes a day, the sunshine creeps in through the glass slider doors, crawls across the carpet and rests on the end of the couch.  Just forty-five minutes and only during these chilly months when the sun dips below the edge of the house.

I look at chicken lying frozen on the counter
 ... I should work on dinner.

I look at the pillows, plump and warm in the sunshine 

... I should rest a minute.

I look at the computer
 ... I haven't written anything all day.

I look at the quilt on the couch

 ... I haven't sat all day.

I look at the laundry
 ... It won't fold itself.

I look at the sunshine

 ... It won't last all afternoon.

The beckoning comfort of the slumpy, lumpy, sun-kissed couch wins out.

As I lean back into the cushions, I can feel the heat from the sun.  I pull the quilt across my lap, prop my feet on the ottoman and nestle back in the corner of the cushions.  The sun is so bright, I have to close my eyes against the glare.  The warmth, the comfort and the stillness are the ultimate trifecta for rest.

I guard myself against actually falling asleep, however.  If I nap, I know I'll spend the remainder of the afternoon trying to wake up!  But a few minutes of quiet are a enough to renew and refresh me.  I'm not ready, however, to move on.  I resist the urge to get back to the busy-ness of the day ... the never-ending chores that I'll never actually be done with.

I reach for my Bible on the end table next to the couch with the intention of reading a chapter or two from 2 Peter.  I am in the midst of a reading schedule that takes me through the Bible in chronological order ... all in one year.  I am currently in year two.  Another aspect of life I haven't been able to keep up with.

The brightness of the sun forces me to close my eyes again and as I sit there, I am reminded again of my tendency to be a do-er.  For right now, for the next thirteen minutes, I want to be a be-er.  I want to cast off the belief that my clean house, folded laundry and hot-n-ready dinner define me as a good wife and mother.  I want to cast off the belief that my not-on-schedule reading plan defines me as spiritually lacking.  I want to cast off the belief that my value and importance are defined by my productivity and performance.

Here on my sun-drenched corner of the couch, for a few brief minutes, I am free to just be.

⁸ For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— ⁹ not by works, so that no one can boast. (Ephesians 2:8-9, emphasis mine)

Not by super organization.
Not by incredible talents in the kitchen.
Not by faithfully caring for the laundry.
Not by stellar reading schedules.
Not by thoughtful and heartfelt essays.
Not by going and going and going.

But by grace.

That slouching, cozy, welcoming couch reminds me of God's grace.  And that's what I'm thankful for today.

Where do you find God's grace?  

It might be where you least expect it!

Splendidly Lavish

There is something about a birthday landing on a Monday.  (Especially a Monday in the Kellum household where it's, "go! go! go!" from sun up to sun down.)  Something that makes this birthday girl grateful that her family started celebrating Saturday!

With extra time to write, uninterrupted opportunities to create and free time to rest, I loved my birthday weekend!  And as if those little gifts weren't enough, I also enjoyed Brett's homemade pizza for dinner, breakfast out before church on Sunday and a delicious dessert.  Imagine with me a generous bowl of coffee ice cream nestled next to a slice of from-scratch (from our garden) carrot cake topped with homemade cream cheese frosting.  And not a smidgen of frosting, mind you, but a generous slathering; a thoroughly liberal blanketing; a splendidly lavish layer of creamy sweet goodness!

I remember reading somewhere years ago about a delicious correlation between a lavishly iced cake and God's lavish grace.  The author wrote about how her grandmother wasn't skimpy in the way that she iced a cake.  She was generous with the icing in the same that God is generous with His grace.

Abundant.
Big-hearted.
Sumptuous.
Luxurious.
Plentiful.
Unsparing.
Bountiful.
Openhanded.
Unstinting.
Extravagant.

In Paul's letter to the Ephesians, we read:

⁷ In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace ⁸ that he lavished on us. (Ephesians 1:7-8a)

I can say, as I lick the sugary sweetness off my fingers, that this snapshot of God's abundant grace is a delicious reminder.  Delicious and sweet.

Thank You, Jesus, for Your lavish grace.  And help me to love those around me with that same lavish grace ... even especially the goofy ones!




(Now ... who is going to come help us eat this cake?  Because I can't be left alone with it's deliciousness ...)
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31 Days of Mom in the Midst

Day 1:  Mom in the Midst

Day 2:  My Button is Lame

Day 3:  Splendidly Lavish