As with any little family- when the temperatures spike and the noses run, we sort of screech to a halt.
And it can feel a little like shut-down.
And so while dad continues to saw and haul and pile the fallen wood, I remain inside. I soothe and sing and entertain.
I do my own hauling and piling of little bodies into van. I pay the co-pays. I wait. I drive home and offer home comforts. But when this house goes viral, there isn't much to do but wait...
And for a few days, nothing changes. The fevers remain and these little, hot bodies still end up in my bed midway through short sleep. I am up. I am down. I am kicked in the ribs.
And today the fatigue is long. I miss church again. I'm short and feeling sort of shredded and this isn't the labor day weekend I had planned.
I drive to find cough meds and pass a goose and its mate. They are stitting in tall grass and their heads pop up as I pass. And they don't know it but they become my invitation back into the joy. They jolt this heart awake and I have my own mini-worship service behind the wheel.
Two fat geese remind this tired mama of some theology I am learning to live:
All is grace.
Yes. This life, these moments, these days that often go all jabberwocky. The days inside and the coughing and cuddling and their little round faces asleep in night-light. All bits of grace to take in and it is everywhere and all around if we will slow to see.
I want life to be this simple. Couldn't it be? Joy in nuzzling this sweaty boy and joy in carrying this tired girl up stairs. Joy when babes are sick and trees are down, when friends are sad and calendars are full, when fatigue is heavy on my shoulders.
We roll into evening with no fevers and my little guy is covered in tiny spots. I know this virus is on the way out so we pack up and go. We drive and talk about how life really could look different through these grace lenses... permanently.
We don't have suits but the breeze is cool and the sky too blue. We pull the car over into grass and we run down the hill to seize another bit of it ... this grace that surprises and changes and makes us smile big.
He is all good. And He is all around.
All is grace.
And you need to know, these words are not mine. But they have changed me. And this lady who I love dearly and this guy- they have joined up to share.
I have camped out with these words for a week now... these lyrics just following me around. I figured it was time to pass them along. I pray you read her story... because giving it away this year has been one of my great joys... now seventeen weeks on the NYT bestseller list.
I pray you support his music that has been somewhere.
And I pray you, too, might learn to live these words -- this "deep theology" wrapped up in one tiny sentence.
Be blessed, friends.
All Is Grace (With Ann Voskamp) from Shaun Groves on Vimeo.