Grace is at work.
Under soil cold and cracked.
While I am not paying attention, roots delve deep and deeper into ground that looks lifeless. Little camellia’s stalks grow stronger. Her leaves shine gloss and green. A symphony of everyday miracles dance in a company under dirt.
Then the camellia flowers burst like popping corn in these cold days of winter.
Grace rising toward the sky. In unlikely places, unlikely times.
I look in wonder at these white laced cups trimmed pink. They are so lovely.
Then the scene fades to the everyday, and I forget the flowers. Walk by them every day and don’t even look.
Life keeps happening.
In these days after Christmas, everyday life happens.
The thing of Christmas, the event of Christmas, the celebration of Christmas that we’ve worked towards has passed.
We continue to celebrate God with Us. Grace appearing unexpected in strokes of acrylic paint and nativity figures at a dinner table.
Yet I struggle with scraps of disappointment that this time is never all I desire it to be. I am disappointed with myself for ways I did not walk in Christmas peace and delight in present moments.
I wanted to walk empowered by pure grace and instead trudged across clean places with mud clinging to feet, too tired to wipe it off.
This last week, just like every other year leading up to Christmas, I snapped at kids, felt adrenaline surges in body aches. Finished shopping later than I wanted. Doubted gifts given. Thought I may be eaten alive by piles of paper.
I needed to know grace for myself. Sometimes I did. But too many moments, grace seemed to pass me straight by.
Several weeks ago a friend — a teacher of religion to college students — said descriptions of grace always leave him feeling inadequate. You cannot encapsulate the gift. It cannot be fully described. It cannot be wholly grasped.
We clutch, and it slips through fingers.
In our midst, all around us, grace falls and flows. All we can really do is cup hands to receive what has become, what is in this moment.
Grace continues to pass through fingers, as moments do. Then there’s another.
Grace, like seconds and days, continually new.
Grace blossoms into full glorious bloom, and sometimes we stand full glorious in it. Other times we try standing upright in grace, reach for grace drops and pain comes, and disappointment, and we feel the wither. We see grace falling clean past us, onto his head, onto hers.
Still, our roots, our branches reach for the sustaining. We hunger, and we thirst for the grace gift, though we may call it other names.
Thanks be to God that his grace leaves not a one forgotten. Not a one lifeless under ground.
Grace is always becoming, always doing its work until the day we stand in Grace light. The light of grace that never ends.
This is the seventh and final week in a series of Tuesday grace conversations. To catch up to this point, you can see… Week 1 – Grace that begins it all, Week 2 – Grace that bends, grace that blesses, Week 3 – Grace that beckons, Week 4 – Grace that breaks, grace that births, Week 5 – Grace that breathes and Week 6 – Grace that builds.
Connecting through the power of stories written, spoken and lived
![Sometimes nothing says it quite like the way of a child. Before the rest of the house wakes, I read the account of Easter morning in the Jesus Storybook Bible: "And it seemed to [Mary Magdalene] that morning, as she ran, almost as if the whole world was singing for joy-- the trees, tiny sounds in the grass, the birds...her heart." The tomb is empty. Jesus is alive, and so are we. And it is new. Once again. Yes, it is always new...He is risen indeed!](https://scontent.cdninstagram.com/t51.2885-15/s320x320/e35/17934124_1877271335863004_8139172358331039744_n.jpg "Sometimes nothing says it quite like the way of a child. Before the rest of the house wakes, I read the account of Easter morning in the Jesus Storybook Bible: \"And it seemed to [Mary Magdalene] that morning, as she ran, almost as if the whole world was singing for joy-- the trees, tiny sounds in the grass, the birds...her heart.\" The tomb is empty. Jesus is alive, and so are we. And it is new. Once again. Yes, it is always new...He is risen indeed!")
This has been a most beautifully-written, thought-provoking, grace-filled series. At times I’ve been quite stunned by the brilliant beauty in it. I know you’re finished for now with the series…and yet I fully expect you’ll have more to say on the subject in times to come. Congratulations though on a series so well-conceived and executed. You were made for such as this! : ) exquisite Ashley!
I can’t leave the comment section without another few words though….these for your readers. I hope you won’t mind.
Ashley’s humility knows no bounds. She is quick to perceive her flaws, quick to confess where she has fallen short of her own expectations. If you KNOW Ashley, you’ll already know this of her – she’s an INCREDIBLE mother, an adoring wife (words that barely begin to describe the truth of it.) She’s a generous and compassionate friend. She is quick to make room in her day and in her heart to help where it is needed. She always has time to offer a listening ear. Ashley loves in a very big way.
If you’ve been following her blog, you’ll have experienced her vulnerability – her open admissions of where she’s fallen down. As her mom though, I can’t leave without saying how beautifully she stands, how tenderly she embraces, how selflessly she loves and how graciously she lives. And she’s been God’s gift to me.
I’m so touched, Mama.
Thanks so much for saying what I feel and cannot put into words. Though I must tell you, age and moving into grandparenting has really really helped me grasp God’s grace more firmly and confidently!
Thank you, Martha. I’d love to know how age and grand parenting have helped bring you there. Perspective? Not feeling you need to earn grace or make anyone else earn it?
As always, i love hearing your perspective; one that always draws me back to His. Your words are such an encouragement to me and somehow always so applicable to my days struggles and needs. And Mama’s words are spot on—sooooo blessed by you everyday!!
Sissy, isn’t it so amazing how alike our experiences are in these days, even though we are living too far apart? You bless me! I already miss you — our time went by much too fast.
Mom knows you so well and paints a picture of honesty, humility, self-doubt and love as expressed by you. Your candor and bravery in allowing others into your heart and mind I find moving and exemplary. Love,Papa
Your grace words have touched me deeply. Thank you, Ashley. You have a beautiful family. It’s no wonder.
Thank you so much, Debbie. This series was so good for me to write. I realize how much more I have to learn. Isn’t that usually how it goes? Sending love.