Last summer we were over our heads in a drowning restaurant, racing to get an addition built and trying to keep a homestead and family from falling prey to many weeds.
It broke us open.
Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. John 12:24
Through our brokenness, God has prevailed and has not left us. The past year has been one of immense growth and change. We have found the “insteads”.
to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. Isaiah 61:3
I walked outside on a warm summer night and noticed we nearly have a lawn again. I looked at the overhang that is almost finished, the garden that, despite the weeds, is flourishing, the new herb patch that brings me joy and I can see that God brought us out of a spiritual desolation as well as a personal one. Our life is flourishing again, and we are forever closer to the One who provided it all.
Instead of complaint, He has given me a spirit of thankfulness. Instead of frustration, a spirit of patience.
Our dining room is my favorite spot in our house. A place of convergence at all times of day to both create and eat. During the evening hours of spring and fall the room fills with glorious light. The sun creates pockets of highlights and shadows that easily take your breathe away.
Today contractors are removing one of my beloved windows to make a room for my grandmother to live in. My sacred space of light is about to darken.
This whole process of deciding and planning to move my grandmother in has been one of many ups and downs.
She can no longer live at home safely but she can no longer stand to live in her assisted living room. There are days she’s ready to bust herself out of there and I can’t really blame her. Who wants to be old? Not even a 90 year old woman.
But how am I going to care for an elderly woman along with my four small children? Only by the grace of God I’m certain.
How is she going to fare living alongside our loud and chaotic household? I’m not sure. This quote from G.K. Chesterton has really been helping my perspective on the whole thing:
“An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered”
This is bound to shape up as quite the adventure, and I’m looking forward to experience not only for Brad and I, but also for our children. This is a life changing experience we get to embark on. What is it like to care for someone in their last stage of life? I imagine it is humbling and sad as well as joyous and insightful.
We are taking an inconvenient risk and our house and our lives are permanently changing. I pray that there are more moments of light than darkness, and that the joy of the Lord is present in this place.