When everything, spirals, way, way down… when you hear the whispers of the neighbors eyeing up your greening gray white fence, when you shudder at the life you can’t call your own, when the heart gets pricked so raw, every splinter just wings its way right home, when the mind gets blocked so miserable tight, its hard to find the goodness, and every snappy overflow just wants to slip right out the lips, when its just face down on the table, when its the morning with all the thoughts run wild, when its all shame, its shame:

(Psalm 44:5 All day long my disgrace is before me, and shame has covered my face)

remember the gospel, preach the gospel, (what is the gospel?) 

“Forgiveness of sins and justification are good news because they remove obstacles to the only lasting, all-satisfying source of joy: Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ is not merely the means of our rescue from damnation; he is the goal of our salvation. If he is not satisfying to be with, there is no salvation. He is not merely the rope that pulls us from the threatening waves; he is the solid beach under our feet, and the air in our lungs, and the beat of our heart, and the warm sun on our skin, and the song in our ears, and the arms of our beloved.”(excerpt from John Piper’s What is the gospel)

count the gifts. The gifts are the grace, the grace in the days, and no one and NOTHING can take them away…

and that is one reason why: sometimes its a sacrifice, sometimes its a pouring out, sometimes its the every effort to turn the downward face UP. To look with seeing eyes.

To find the pleasure and the beauty and the flaming color in the rain. IN THE RAIN.

(Psalm 50:23 The one who offers thanksgiving as his sacrifice glorifies me; to the one who orders his way rightly, I will show the salvation of God!)

Little blue. The sweet, speedy little car gifted for Micah and all Borger children who will be learning to drive. It has been a blessed transit for me, too. And all, all, all the grace there. Thank You, God.

The ginormous slug Abi found and was brave enough to cup in her hand.

Streusel topping on blueberry bread on a wet, autumn day.

The savory smell of Bacon and Bean soup: thrift, nutrition, economy, efficiency, plenty, marvel.

Dark Chocolate covered Almonds

Fig Bars and Granola Bars for hungry high school kids

Lighting candles in my darkness

Oolong Tea

BJs and filling a cart overflowing with my best shopping helper

A flute soon to be refurbished

Krista

The yearly visit to the eye glasses store – done. Thank God. I dread that visit so much. It is no fun for me to stare at a hundred frames and try to help children pick with economy and grace/fashion, while little ones wiggle and squirm and everything takes twice as long as we wish it would. And I stand there, thinking of my fashion savvy sister and all her deep delight in these external accessories and how she always puts it all together with sha-bammm. Not me. Big sigh relief. Just have to get through the fitting part. Shew. I am glad it is done. It took me a month longer to get there than I wanted.

September’s Gold

One last Monarch, released – to head south-

A visit from dear friends, and homeschooling alongside each other. I learned a thing or two, too.

Prayers in the car drive and Bible Time on the days I am at home

Abi at Acro

The Instagram feed of Christie Purifoy who wrote this book: Roots and Sky. The flowers! Her photos are a means of grace (Beauty!) in my life.

Preparing for Monday, preparing for hot breakfast and candles, preparing for fancy clothes and tutoring, preparing for grace

Blues skies of October

Woolly Bears on their fingers, Pet Bugs, and its sequel

Handcrafted woolly bear habitat

Three little girls out on the deck with me, to breathe October skies, and pansies (pressed and adorning), their velvet faces still a source of joy and serendipity

an unexpected slightly sleep-in morning

Thursdays. And Fridays. A new found grace in Thursdays.

Leaves down on pavement beneath our feet

The gold turning October, turning warm, red  wine 

on tiptoes for a kiss

How weeks before he would ever choose, I chose Morning Has Broken(he never knew) for a morning hymn, and he chooses it, too. And all that hymn means to me. And this is real, real here – snare drum buzzing in the backround. Piano all full of book stacks. Life.

grace in a community group and broken down walls; conversations opened

Bacon Wrapped Chicken

Pumpkin Spice Tea, black tea, my favorite (well, one of my favorites)

hearing the songs again of Faber 3. So, so glad, heart-swelling glad.

Hot breakfast- the way to their hearts

the full hearted abandon to Jesus and He is more than enough and I lay life down again and again and again and in my fear and in my uncertainty, I seek help. I walk on.

John 1:16 For from His fullness, we have all received, grace upon grace.

 

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