The Grace of It
I'm writing this in between helping my husband in his post operation stage, with all the love, healing, and unexpected that come with it, in between making meals, slowly nibbling away at my mid term, answering emails, well, the list goes on and you understand. My sink is overflowing with dishes, my bed is covered in clean laundry that's begging to be folded, my office is left with fluttering papers and creative ideas strewn about the whole of it, wishfully asking me to sit down and work.
I'm writing this for the sake of honesty, remembering a good conversation from just earlier this week, as I sat down and chatted with a dear friend about depth and meaning, a real look into life and why that is so important. This space and these words will never be about the lip balm I'm wearing, or the cost of the dress I found, because for me this will always be so much more than that, and putting up product price tags would just cheapen it.
I'm writing this for the humanity of my own sake, and maybe for yours too, to remind and to bring to light that the reality of life is not perfectly centered, color coordinated, and so highly curated. Yes, we often post our highlight reels, but I think for me there is beauty in seeing the progress of a plant take root, break soil, grow steadily, weather the storm, and blossom. This happens to be a brief moment where I feel like I am in the midst of a heavy down pour.
I'm writing this with two simple words scribbled in rich black ink staring back at me, "Have Courage" sitting next to me on my desk, peeking out behind car keys, and glasses. What I once thought of courage has changed. Courage I have found in part is learning to be vulnerable, and vulnerability I believe is where grace and humility meet. It's admitting to my flaws, it's admitting that I cannot do all of this on my own, it's admitting to those things in a way that welcomes the strengths of others.
— That is the grace of it.
I'm writing this because yesterday became too much. I sat next to Brian, wanting nothing more to curl up to him and weep, but the callous brace protecting his feeble healing process would deter such a request. The tears flowed easy, and my heart weighed heavy. Humility then started her descent, sinking in and leaving me with the realization that I was trying to do everything on my own when that did not need to be the case. So there was my husband, holding me with all the tenderness in the world the best he could, when I was supposed to be the person being strong for him. What a hard pill for me to swallow.
I'm writing this because I felt grace last night, for hours I tried bearing the massive weight of the current circumstances by myself, and I could not for the life of me find relief from the gravity of such trials. Truly I was abandoning my ship of faith and finally flailing my arms helplessly, trying to find shelter from my storm. It was in helping my husband into bed last night that he turned to me and asked me if I would like a priesthood blessing.
I'm writing this because I felt grace last night.
I'm writing this now, because in the gentle words of my husband's prayer, I felt the loving arms of heaven wrap themselves around me, and take me to a safe harbor, one that brushed away the sorrow, the stress, the uncertainty I was feeling. In just moments the gravity that weighed over my frail faith was removed, and I was given the needed strength, not by my own will but from the lending hands of angels propelling me forward to carry on and continue in my journey, rowing against the currents of this hurricane.
I'm writing this down because even in such a trying time I felt a glimmer of hope and light. The fog for me was lifted. It came in the form of a powerful yet still small feeling in my heart, the whisperings that I never have to go through life alone, and that it will all work out in the end. The confidence of my Savior's Atonement, and what that means for me personally was increased by a hundred fold.
— That is the grace of it.