Filed under: Uncategorized
Maybe it’s inherent to motherhood. Maybe it’s inherent to beginning my thirtieth year, or my fourth decade of life.
But never have I experienced so much grace, and never have I needed it more.
When I’m driving down the interstate in another state (or city…or my own, for that matter…) and not at my road-worthy best, I just wave at others and say “Give me grace! Please, give me grace!”
When Elijah is having a meltdown, and I’m on the brink of my own, I just beg the Lord for grace accompanied by some mercy that I might be filled with patience I don’t have.
And when friends call or text or email with stories of new wounds and heavy burdens…oh, it’s all I can do not to fall on my knees and groan, willing the Spirit to join me.
I suspect it has something to do with the simple fact that I experienced real, true, tangible salvation this year when God brought me back from the brink of death to be Eli’s mother and Paul’s wife. I don’t know that I’ve ever been so aware of Christ’s presence in and around and for me as I have been these last five months, since He saved me.
I don’t know if I’ve ever been so fully consumed by the knowledge of prayer’s power for those around me, since seeing how God interrupted so many others’ lives to plead for me and Eli. I have prayed and prayed that He would interrupt mine, that I might be part of the mystery and miracle in a similar way for someone else.
I do know I’ve never been this awe-struck by the weight and depth of the struggles we daily face, or by God’s hugeness in comparison.
And I have never been so keenly moved by the small beauties that transform…well-written songs, powerful prayers spoken by tiny lips, baby coos, and falling leaves.
And so every day, for something or someone new, I’m drawn to my heart’s knees if not my actual knees, pleading for grace, and grace, and grace in the world around me. For my friends whose marriages are deteriorating; for those who are facing injustice upon injustice; for almost-orphans and their dying mothers; for my family in Africa and Nebraska that I miss so dearly; for close ones facing the shock of aging in sudden illness. Grace and grace and grace, that I might hold tight to the life around me, grace for everything dying, grace for the eyes to see it coming alive.
Grace and grace and grace, that it might be made right, that life might bloom and I might watch it. Again and again.
4 Comments so far
Leave a comment
amy courts: en route 
You spoke what is on my heart today. Bless you, child. Of grace. With grace. For more grace.
Comment by Robin Burns September 28, 2011 @ 11:48 amAmy… this is really touching and poignant.
Comment by Bonnie September 28, 2011 @ 12:51 pmI completely concur with your heart’s sentiment. These last few months I have found myself asking God to please fill me with His fire because I need new grace and compassion for those around me. You’re da bomb!
Comment by christyclay September 28, 2011 @ 2:28 pmAmy, I have found over time -these last few months- that of the great many things I have seen and the pain I have felt, change is the hardest to cope with and my will is the hardest to control, but I have had to learn to keep myself in check. Thank you for writing your music, and someday soon I hope I get to meet you. I am sort of an aspiring-to-be singer and if I wee to sing in any way it would be like you. Beautiful and peaceful and full of your incredible grace and your voice. A friend of mine told me about your music and if I didn’t have you to listen to sometimes I wonder what I would have done without her, or you, or Jennifer. I could write you all the things I feel about your music and your singing… But it would take up so much space. Anyhow, I know what it’s like to crawl up out of that darkness and imagine someone being there to hold you up. Keep on inspiring us all! I will take you over Lady Gaga any day!
Comment by Elizabeth October 17, 2011 @ 10:33 pm