Rest, Heaviness and Grace

i'm still in recovery mode from last week's birthday party planning

there was a lot of staying up and prep work leading up to it 

but it was so worth it to see the looks on those girlies faces,

to hear their squeals of delight and laughter ringing through the house

to share those moments with loving friends and family... :)

but i've definitely been trying to keep it low key since then

just until i catch up on some sleep (fully catching up will have to wait till the kids move out!)

also because we've got family flying in this week and i want to be rested up for them

i haven't even looked through pictures from the birthday party yet...that's really saying something!

for me, this is what "low key" has looked like:

spending time with the girlies and their daddy,

a laid back afternoon with our best friends,

time alone; often in a dark/quiet room - sounds weird, but it's actually really soothing

(a BIG thank you to my loving husband for occupying the kids so that i can have said time alone)

one of the things i like to do when i'm on my own is mindlessly flip through my instagram feed

which is how i ran into this post a earlier this week and then this one a couple days after that

warning:  you'll likely cry...her mama's battling cancer and it's not looking so hopeful right now

i don't even know kristen 

(we have a lot of mutual friends and aquaintances, which is how i found her feed)

but my heart just aches for her and her family

and i'm inspired by her strength and her faith.

i've been thinking of and praying for them lots over the past couple of days

(if you think of it, i'm sure they'd appreciate your prayers too!)

as i read kristen's updates, i am amazed by grace i see through the heaviness

here's an excerpt from her most recent blog post:

Our home is a sacred, weighty, alive place right now.  It's holy ground, filled with the tears of grown men and little children.  We're in the parking lot of heaven, preparing to drop off our dear mother.  We're able to see some of it's light from here.  We wish we could see it all.  We wish she wasn't going without us.  We wish that maybe this is a dream and we'll wake up to her making coffee in the kitchen. However, the rays from Home are warm sun to our hearts.  We're not ready to lose her, but we're ready for her to dance on the clouds, run to her mother who she has deeply missed for over a decade now, and join her voice in the triumphant choir to the Father King.  Thank you for every single word or thought of care for us.  Every single "Dear Jesus." Every single offer to help.  Every single communication.  Every drop of love.  We're swimming in a deep, beautiful sea.  And our mama is sailing to the shore.

only through Jesus can a situation like this produce joy

and as hard as it is to read those words (infinitely harder, i'm sure, to write them)

there is hope

there is hope and grace in Jesus Christ

thank you, kristen, for sharing your journey with us

thank you Jesus, our ultimate comforter, for grace and redemption

for taking our heaviness and giving us garments of praise instead

for your goodness and your sovereignty

thank you for searching us and knowing us 

and sending your Spirit to help each of us grasp all the good things you have prepared for us, 

as well as the things that break our hearts

But, as it is written,“What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, 
 nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him”—
these things God has revealed to us through the Spirit. 

For the Spirit searches everything, even the depths of God.

For who knows a person's thoughts except the spirit of that person, which is in him? 

So also no one comprehends the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God. 

Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God, that we might understand the things freely given us by God.

1 Corinthians 2:9-12

Amen