I forget, as the minutes tick past, caught up in the reality of my here-and-now. Waiting, praying, longing for relief that has not yet come.
I forget, reaching forward, hoping for what is down the road, wriggling impatiently as I sit in my chair, typing, day after day after day. It’s hard, this enforced sitting still, waiting to be freed from and to be freed to…
“He knows,” I whisper to myself. “He knows what we need.”
In this very time of enforced solitude, of dreams yet unfulfilled, He speaks: “Breathe in. Breathe out.
“Breathe in My grace. Breathe out your fear.
“Breathe in grace. Breathe out doubt.
“Breathe in My strength. Exhale your weakness.
Ah. Yes. There it is. How is it that I’m so slow to learn, slow to grasp this precious lesson? Above all of my longings; above all of my dreams; above, even, personal comfort and ease – above all, He is. And He is enough.
He does not (I’m beginning to see this) give grace for next year, next month, or next week. I don’t need grace just yet for tomorrow or even for the next trial. The grace He gives is for the now. This moment. This breath.
That’s all that’s needed. Breath by breath, taking in holy grace; sitting, moving, living in His presence just one moment at a time.
All the moments, like raindrops, run together, writing hours and days and weeks and years in the stories of my life and yours. And this is how we live in that grace all sufficient, the lavish grace that “helps in time of need.”
Breathe in. Breathe out. Sweet, sweet grace.