And Abraham Went Out . . .

1000 Gifts: Mercy and Grace, #68 and #69

Last night I was thinking about the extraordinary gifts of mercy and grace. I found myself wanting to share with ya'll a bit of what was going on in my head. I hesitate though because it is such an internal movement, I'm thinking that it may not sound like much on paper. Another might say "So what? Big deal." I thought I'd try though because as I have experienced them as such beautiful gifts in my life, I simply had to share. It's like seeing a beautiful sunset, you catch a glimpse of it and immediately call to whoever is nearest. "Come look at this!" Beauty and joy are meant to be shared.  I don't have the concepts all fleshed out but they are becoming themes that I personally find interest in because they have touched my life.

Come and see. 

Mercy. God's generous gift of mercy has been something special to me since the birth of Nutmeg. Her birth was my first "real" birth. My goal was to deliver her without the use of anesthesia. When I reached the "transition" phase of labor in my mind I was crying out with my whole being (in my head of course, I am not a vocal type of person in those circumstances) "Jesus! Have mercy on me!" Oh goodness, it was so painful. So I kept crying those words over and over. Jesus. Have mercy on me! 

My cry was heard. And answered. Transition ended quickly and the pushing phase was doable. Not fun by any means but something I felt able to do.

For weeks afterwards and even to this day, I knew that I was heard. This is the hard part. I can't explain to you how I knew that but there it is. I knew. All I could say was "Thank you. Thank you."

And to this day whenever I hear the word "mercy" my ears perk up and I feel this special bond this gift I have experienced in such a tangible way. I suppose it might be like if you travel to some foreign country, visit some particular sight, have the day of a lifetime, and then years later you see that sight in a picture, you may say "I've been there. I know place. It's wonderful."

Grace. I know this event is so small and insignificant in the big scheme of things but again, in my heart and life it has been huge. Small things are sometimes big things. It happened two nights ago and yesterday. But let me back up. I'm just hitting my second trimester. I've told you its been a good pregnancy and it has been. But I still am pregnant and I still, like any women, get tired out. I chase three kids all day. I cook, I clean, I break up fights, I try my best to teach them how to live in this world, I read stories, I occasionally garden, I cart all three to the doctor's office when one is sick, I do lots and lots of dishes. It's tiring. I hit one o'clock in the afternoon, lie down on the couch among talking children, and promptly fall asleep. All this to say, sleep is vital to me. I'm serious about my sleep. I need it. I'm growing a person here.

Anyhow, I've been doing very well with my sleep lately (Thank you Lord!!) but two nights ago not so much. I woke up at 1am to help Emily and again at 1:45am. I couldn't get back to sleep. I moved downstairs to try sleeping there. My mind wasn't shutting down. 3am and still nothing. I'm thinking to myself  "This is bad, very bad. I'm tired enough as it is, I can't do everything I need tomorrow on the little sleep I've had. Impossible."

It was then that I involuntarily prayed (like before), "God, you just must give me grace. I must have grace from you. There is no other way. Please, grace." This cry went out over and over.

The next morning I awoke quite groggy. I stumbled into the kitchen, got everyone breakfast, ate, and started to get everyone ready to go to the doctor. Let's just say that bringing three kids into the doctor's office is one of the last things I'd rather do in a day. That and grocery shopping with the three.

This is getting wordy. Oops, sorry. Our day went fine. I never, even once considered the thought of being tired. Not once. I took the kids to the doctor, went to a store, went to the library with the kiddos. We came home and had lunch, had our regular afternoon, and by some miracle I had an awesome dinner ready by the time Doug got home. And I was able to love and serve my family right up until bedtime without crashing into bed at 9pm. It could have been nothing but grace. In contrast, the day before I was sitting on the couch when Doug got home with no energy or motivation whatsoever to make food for anyone. I was tuckered out. Yesterday was simply infused with grace. No miracles or anything but there is no way that I could have simply trucked through that day like it was any other day. Again I know deep in my soul that I was heard that night and the Lord was pleased to answer me.  And it makes sense, right? If our heavenly Father is really a father, than of course he takes pleasure in granting those requests. I just feel in my heart that he loves to give the gifts of mercy and grace. It's a special connection I just can't explain. I will never forget.

Mercy and grace. Sweet words. 


"If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give what is good to those who ask Him!"
Matthew 7:11




**I apologize for the lack of pictures lately. I feel bad because I know some of you enjoy them so.