I try to write, but it isn’t easy when I’m kneeling at the computer. The computer chair is gone. The wall hangings, beds and furniture are also gone. My family is in the middle of a move. And if you’ve ever moved… whether it was 1500 miles or 15, whether you packed up a years’ worth of possessions or a decade’s, you know… every move is bittersweet. Every move has some ups and downs that come with it. Every move causes at least a little bit of stress.
I look around me, and I see the book I’m supposed to be writing about. It’s the one beautiful thing left in this room.
What can I say about an author who’s impacted my motherhood, and my faith, so much over the years? I can tell you how she’s blogged diligently, weekly, finding “God’s grace in the everyday,” and sharing it faithfully with eager readers. I can tell you how I’ve gone back and back to her blog, eagerly waiting for each new post, and drinking them all up like water for my thirsty soul.
I can still remember when Ruth wrote about her own family’s moving journey… about the struggle to find the right new house. The struggle to find buyers for the old house. The joy when the moment finally came, and then the mixed feelings about how it felt to leave a place that her children had called home. I remember how she talked about resting in Christ in the midst of the waiting… the work… the unknown. I remember, and I breathe a little easier as I carry boxes and take down pictures and try to find pants for my son.
I can tell you how Ruth has talked about not just knowing the truth… but rehearsing it. “Preaching to myself,” she says regularly. And I remember that I must. I must speak words of truth — His truth — over my own heart, especially in the moments when it doesn’t come easily.
I could write about how Ruth has shared what it means to respond in faith. How she has written countless times that motherhood is sanctifiying — that marriage is sanctifying — and that by saying, “Lord, sanctify me,” right where we are, we are very literally ushering the gospel into our homes. How when we praise Him in the midst of our dailyness, we are ushering HIM into our homes.
But I think I’d like to write about how she’s urged us to remember. To remember that when the sink is full, those mouths and the food they ate were all a gift from God above. To remember when there is work to be done, that able hands are a gift from Him. To remember the One who gives all good gifts. To remember that our lives fit into a beautiful pattern He’s planned, and that His pattern is best. To remember the One who gives breath to breathe, and eyes to see, and a mouth to praise, anyway. Because before we can rest, rehearse, or respond, we must remember how GOOD He is.
And if I were to write about these four things… rest, rehearse, respond, remember… I think I’d be sharing the heart of this book. Because Ruth has categorized her hope-filled stories into these four crucial seasons of the heart.
But if I stopped there, I wouldn’t be doing it justice. You see, GraceLaced isn’t just a book. It’s not some haphazardly-thrown together journal or devotion. It’s the culmination of ten years of hard work by the author. Ruth logged an entire decade of painting and blogging words of truth before she ventured to publish a book. During that decade, she has stayed true to her heartfelt commitment: “Soli Deo Gloria,” (Glory to God alone). She has practiced excellence and attention to detail with every blog post. And she has painted brushstroke after beautiful brushstroke in worship to the One who’s given flowers to paint and words to write.
Yes. I can write about how Ruth’s words bring hope. How her art bring healing. How her family life gives evidence of the touch of God’s grace on her life.
And I can encourage you, friends. While the whole world is going back to school… let’s go back to Grace, too. Let’s remember the One who meets us where we are. Who loves us as we are. Who stretched out arms wide on a Cross… that we might respond to Him.
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In His Grace,