In the Space for Grace

So, it looks like I started blogging. What? Where did this term, this “blogging” even come from? I don’t like it.

Well, I used to keep up our family blog, sort of as an online scrapbook. But, that second child came along and the best I can do now is just to occasionally update pictures of big events.

This blog, however, is something else altogether. Shortly after we arrived in Arkansas, I felt compelled to start writing about all this STUFF. We were on the heels of God doing such a huge work in our lives and I was ready to fly. I likened the feeling to me standing on the edge of a cliff and being ready to dive off and let God catch me. (Kind of significant because I really hate heights, or more the act of plunging from them, but let’s just go with the analogy anyway. I have control issues.) And I really argued hard with God about doing it. It went something like this:

“I can’t do that. But what will people think? Oh, I know what they’ll think. They will say, ‘Who does she think she is?’ And really, the world has no shortage of opinions these days; who wants to hear mine? Only my mom will read it. People will think I’m silly. Because aren’t there enough ‘mommy bloggers’ already, desperate for meaning and purpose outside the diapers and laundry? (Oh, that term. Mommy Blogger still makes me shudder.) Comparatively speaking, I’m really not that good at writing anyway. What would I have to say?

As it turns out, a lot. I can’t even tell you the amount of words floating in my head some days. Sometimes I can see a perfectly laid out phrase, sentence, or even paragraph. It’s awfully weird.

Back at that time, I asked a close friend what she thought. She gave me such wise advice. She said something along the lines of, “Even if no one else reads it, you will have obeyed. Even if you write something just for yourself, just to get something off your chest, it will be worth it.”

And so, I set out to obey. A full year later, mind you. By the time my blog was set up I was bursting, but still doubting and feeling all weird about it the whole way. (Whenever I run into a friend or acquaintance who says, “Hey, I read something you wrote the other day!” I totally cringe and want to hide under a table. So help me out, and just pretend to be oblivious if you see me someplace.) I stole some time with a sweet writer friend of mine who gave me more beautiful advice. She said that if something you write helps even one person, you’ve done your job. It struck me that the Father God is only going to save a remnant himself. How could I have the audacity to think that my writing needs to reach the masses in order to matter? Just one.

I needed to come up with a title. I SO love titles. They are too much fun. I thought about the time in my life where God showed me more grace than I dared to realize, even now, probably. The greatest time of growth in my life so far occurred during the space between the births of my two sons. In between the arrival of the child who laid bare my heart and showed me my desperate need for a savior and the child I had to choose to lay aside my life for and surrender to God’s will for me, in that space, was where I found grace. So, there you go.

I could not do this without my people. For real. Before I hit publish on most things, I have a group of friends who get an email in which I beg them for their constructive criticism, particularly in the areas of theology, accurate use of scripture, me being judgmental, or just being dumb. And if it weren’t for my people being generous enough to read and click “share”, nobody would see this at all. Thanks for being my tribe and cheerleaders. I believe your reward in heaven will be great for having so graciously loved and put up with me.

If you are still reading, thank you. Your encouragement means a lot.


Photo credit: Scott Johnson Photography

About amy

Wife, boy mom, child of the King. Lover of coffee, fonts, words, tacos, and leggings.