A beggar

Day follows day and box follows box, minute follows minute and one month turns into another. Not that I was necessarily planning a six month furlough, but here we are six months from the last writing, in a different place with different neighbors, and a host of differents washed under the bridge. In the midst of transition, it is comforting to go out at night and note The Milky Way. Venus. The Big Dipper. Possibly in another blog we’ll explore more moving details but for now a few thoughts from today.

She said this morning that maybe God doesn’t answer because we don’t ask. The discussion went on, but I was left behind. My prayers were rather short, this morning and yesterday and the day before. Lord, I need you. I’m leaning hard on you today. I really need you. I wonder how much I don’t have because I don’t ask. It’s not that the Father doesn’t have the resources, doesn’t have the supply.

Several months ago I was desperate to forgive someone but had no idea how. And the Father said, I give you my grace. You can forgive.

What does grace look like? I asked. A picture became clear to me. In glory there is nothing withheld. When I knock the Father opens the door and I am welcomed in. Warmly. A servant asks, What do you want? The Father has everything, storehouses and storehouses. Do you need a robe?  The servant runs to get clothes and runs back with a beautiful white robe. What else do you need? Ask! The Father’s wealth is like a bubble bath. The bubbles are pouring over the side of the tub.

No one is turned back. Everyone has access to more than their senses can take in. There is light and music and joy and fellowship beyond the open door.  There is so much grace. More than enough for the neighbor and sister and brother and friend. More than enough for me.

I wonder if we extend measured grace, by the amount we feel allotted to us. I wonder if someday we’ll be knocked over, downright shocked by the grace and pleasure and joy extended to the neighbor and brother and sister sitting beside us at the Great Feast.

This grace has been extended to me time and again and again. I don’t deserve grace, own kindness, or have a handle on mercy, but I’m a grateful beggar. I hope I have the chance to share it with you.

For He is good, for his steadfast love endures forever. 2 Chronicles 7:3