Full of Grace

Every Sunday morning runs pretty much the same in our house.
I wake up ridiculously early with Georgia, and put Moana on while I fix her bottle.  Then we sit, cuddle, and I catch up on social media (I’m a Facebook junkie!).  She usually starts getting wiggly, and I start getting eager to read my Bible.
Yep.  My bible.
About 2 years ago, you would have never heard that sentence come out of my mouth.  And I certainly wouldn’t be up early on a Sunday either.  No, pre-Georgia days, Sundays were reserved for sleeping in after a busy close at work, perhaps nursing a hangover, but now I spend them listening to the birds, watching my daughter play, and making notes into bible pages.  I love the moments when the verse really speaks to what I’m needing to hear, and I’ll take my pen and cover the margins of the page in doodles, verses, and every bit of praise I can.  I am a changed woman, becoming the mother of a special needs child is what brought me there.
I even like to put on worship songs while I complete my daily responsibilities of dishes and laundry.  I probably come back to my bible again, later in the day, to wind down or reassure myself.  Yes, God has filled me.
The funny thing is, I always believed in God, but in all honesty, the Jesus thing always threw me off.  It was so hard for me to believe that he truly existed and was all that these pages claimed he was.  I found religion in itself more of a tradition, like Christmas trees & Easter baskets, and loved the routines & rituals more for their comforting expectations rather than their true meaning.
When Georgia was diagnosed, I found it harder and harder to accept my new life.  As hardship upon hardship beat our family down, I couldn’t find the light or happiness…. I was missing the joy in the journey.  Luckily, God had sent a group of women, complete strangers before then, to become my unwavering support group.  And day after day, as I asked them how they continued to live life so happy, so full, so relaxed, they answered me with God.
About six months ago, my mother admitted to me she was having an affair on my father.  Maybe a month or two later, my father found out.  It may seem silly, but it was easily the straw that broke this camel’s back.  I cried uncontrollably for days.  I broke down to my tribe of friends online; I had fallen into a very dark place.  A few days later, a package arrived at my door–my bible.
In trust and faith of my support group, I turned the pages and began reading about the armor of God, and I made a promise to myself that I would turn these pages any time I felt dark again.  I would come to God, and give him the chance to fix the sadness and hurt in my life, before I gave up on it all.  I would give my fears, my anxiety, my troubles to Him, and time after time, He has proven my faith.
So while I strive to read this book every day, I always read every single Sunday.  I thank God every day that he sent this group of women to me, who in turn, sent me to Him.  While I am nothing like the person I once was before Georgia, I am pleasantly okay with that.  I don’t think that version of me could have upheld the strength needed to get through this path God has given me.  I know that I’m walking with the armor of God.
“Finally, be strong int he Lord and in the strength of his might.  Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil.” Ephesians 6:10-1120180805_083120

One Comment

  • Amy

    I am so proud of you, sweet friend. You are stronger than you realize, but more than that, you are a fantastic mommy to GA, a true friend, and most important, you realize that you don’t always have to be the strong one…because God can be that for you. I love you very much!

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