One of the pages I follow on Facebook is “Grit & Grace” – I absolutely LOVE this gal’s writings. I definitely think we are kindred spirits. Our writing styles are so similar – in fact I was floored at the similarities when I first started reading her stuff.
Here is a piece she wrote. I hope y’all will enjoy and please check out Becky’s page:
(I also just discovered she has a blog as well – please follow her here! http://gritandgracejournal.wordpress.com/ )
“Good beautiful Saturday morning, tribe! I’ve just spent the last two hours quietly enjoying the dark turn dawn and then into a glorious morning. And praying. It feels like the rough edges of the last few weeks have been smoothed. Whew.
I watched Delivery Man with Vince Vaughn last night. He found out that a sperm bank he had donated (a lot) to had made a mistake and he had fathered 533 children. There was a lawsuit and children wanting to know his identity and a manila envelope containing the profiles of over 100 of his biological children. He began looking at the pages and finding the now grown kids and “accidentally” running into them so he could see them without them knowing who he was. One son lived in a home, he looked to have cerebral palsy. Vince Vaughn’s character just wanted to see him but couldn’t bring himself to talk. The nurse encouraged him and he spent the entire day with him, never saying a word. On another occasion he came and picked the son up and took him on a day trip. Upon their return to the home and Vince Vaughn saying goodbye and walking away, he stopped and returned to the boy in his wheelchair. He leaned down and whispered in the boys ear, “I’m your father. You will be seeing a lot more of me.” The boy could not respond, but there was something different in his eyes.
In that moment my heart breathed a sigh of familiarity. I know this story already. God did it. Over 2,000 years ago he moved into the neighborhood, leaned down, and whispered into the ears of humanity, “I’m your Father. You’ll be seeing a lot more of me.” The truth of this story that has changed so many lives rushes through me like a welcome storm.
We are not alone. We are not fatherless. We are not abandoned.
Knowing this we relax into the everlasting arms. Our shoulders once tight with fear are now loose and free. Our lungs once inhaling fast and exhaling hard, desperate for control, are now breathing soft and full of life.
You are his. I am his. We are (all) his.
Much grit and grace to us all on our days journey.
In reckless love and rebellious freedom (and breathing soft and full of life),