For when I look like magnifying glass at the gray strand invasion and watch my aunt, Alopecia bald, walk beauty out of the bathroom,
For when I wonder how to send my daughter to Jamaica and checks come in the mail with the message, “We are honored to give and we’ll cover the rest,”
For words said wrong in the midst of blurry moments and the way they humble, open doors for healing conversations,
For the story told in my living room this week, of a teenage girl who gave up her son and the couple who adopted him. The way they find each other, embrace tearful, calm the wonderings of twenty-eight years,
For the way a family member said these words fifteen years ago, “We wondered if you would be a good mother,” and how they stick ugly; the declaration of an uncle to me this week, “We are so glad you are in our family.”
For the years of living under the uncertain cloud of alcoholism in a parent and the way a friend says, “You are the only one I know that understands how I feel, thank you.”
For when guilt looms for not doing enough for my man and he texts to say he wishes to spend the day with me.
For when I question the message at the click of publish and someone on the other side of the world responds, “This is just what I needed today.”
For the way He takes our grit and redeems it for His purposes.
Our grit: granules of exposed beauty in the spoken and silent words of collected experience. Because redemption looks beautiful on everyone and for this, I am thankful for the grit.
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me—practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you. (Philippians 4:8-9 ESV)
How has He redeemed your grit this week?
Writing for five minutes (maybe a few more) on the word Grit with the community at The Gypsy Mama today! Join in the fun.