Grace

If I had to pick a word right now that summed up the past couple of months, it would be Grace.

The past couple months have been really tough.  We had the scare over Gil's brain size (which, thankfully, turned out to be nothing, but still gave Bech and I two weeks of immeasurable worry).  Then Bech has had some health issues.  We moved and had a baby.  I don't know if I have mentioned this before, but Gil is having to get his blood drawn once a week because he is still hemolyzing my blood (I think I phrased that right?) and is still jaundiced.  Bech is on his second round of antibiotics for pneumonia (the first didn't get rid of it!).  Plus, I think Gil might be a touch colicky.

I'm not the kind of person who asks for help easily.  I like to take care of everything on my own.  But the past few months, I haven't been able to do that.  

You know how some Christians struggle with overusing grace (Romans 6:1)?  I'm the other side of that equation.  I struggle with thinking I can do it on my own, not realizing my great need for God's grace.  And not realizing my need for grace and help from the body of believers.

My friends mother-in-law was in town a couple of weeks ago, and so she came along to our Bible study.  She said something that has been resonating through my head and heart since.  We are reading David Platt's Radical  and were talking about how we could show the gospel to those in our Church.  I thought of basic ideas: help in the nursery, teach Sunday school, bring meals, etc.  And this woman, who is recovering from a pretty major knee surgery right now, said, "We can show others the gospel by accepting help from them."

Wow.  

And that's where I am right now.  Having to accept grace from others, having to have grace on myself when everything isn't perfect or when I feel weak.

The past few months that has manifested in several ways.  Sweet Amanda has had me cry to her multiple times at Spring Creek Park (I feel like you should be charging me therapy session fees!).  Countless people have brought meals to me.  One friend was messaging me and found out Bech had pneumonia, so she simply replied, "I'm bringing you dinner tomorrow."  It was great...I didn't even have a chance to refuse!  There have been afternoons where I have picked Jack up, brought Jack and his crying brother home, and we have watched Curious George for the millionth time.  When Gil started screaming in Trader Joe's the other day, a sweet worker pushed my cart and had me point to what I needed so I could shop and comfort Gil at the same time.

What an amazing, tangible taste of gospel grace!

And one of my biggest hopes is that when this season of craziness dies down (and before another one invariably starts again), my actions towards others will be as full of grace too--that I will notice those in need of a little help and reach out to them as swiftly and kindly as I have been reached out to these past few months.