grace is here.

I think I’m with many–dare I say all?–when I say that it’s been a challenging season.

There have been so many beautiful moments that came out of our quarantine, and I don’t want to miss that.

Oh, I don’t want to miss it. This season with our son and as a family of three: to have so much time together just before we celebrate one year with him, while still living so engrossed in a community? This is something we are so grateful for and will forever cherish as a gift to us, just as he is.

And while I don’t want to miss the beautiful moments, I also don’t want to ignore the messier, uglier ones.

While we can’t host classes yet, we have welcomed our employees back to work. It’s been truly harder than just going back to normal: without normal routines of school and church and a neighborhood full of stir-crazy kids (including our own), we are trying to produce something. It’s a lot of work.

This week we hired a new employee, in somewhat epic proportions for our little home. He’s nearly full time, and–if I’m honest–it feels risky. It’s a risk of our time and energy and investment. It’s a risk for our family and our time together. It’s a risk for us financially.

Today, I was talking with one of my best friends in the community. I love her, respect her, learn from her often. We talked about her family, her kids; my family, my kids.

And for some reason, today I saw that she is in poverty. She is thriving more now than before, but in poverty. She is still there, her kids are still struggling to get out of it. Her kids are still walking in the challenges of it, as they go to school and marry and have kids and live life. The cycles are there, in the life of one of my best friends. And even ten years later, and with years ahead where I’ll keep fighting for her: there is so little I can do about it.

The cycles. The investments. The risks. The work. The choices.

That’s what has felt the most significant to me: it is a choice to create work and produce things together amidst the chaos. It is a choice to risk and hope and believe that God is making something grow. It is a choice to keep fighting cycles. It is a choice to keep hoping for wins when you see losses.

_____________

Late tonight, after all the [necessary] to do list items were completed, I took the recommendations of a husband who knows me better than I know myself, and I jumped rope and did my yoga.

I breathed in and out. And I listened to It Is Finished by Passion.

It is done, it is finished
Christ has won, He is risen
Grace is here
Love has triumphed over death forever

Strongholds
Bowing to the Savior
Resurrection power
Over every circumstance
His word stands final and forever
It will not be shaken
He alone has won it all

…This is how I fight my battles | This is how I fight my battles

I thought of our home and how grace is here. I thought of every circumstance, a God who is unshaken and winning. I thought of my battles: being fought over a day of making things work, of taking risks, of hoping.

I’m fighting my battles my jumping rope while being reminded that Christ has won. By breathing in and out over my yoga mat reminded that His word stands final and forever. By getting up and investing again tomorrow, knowing strongholds bow to the Savior. By taking risks believing in the power of the resurrection.

I want to choose honesty here and just say that sometimes I’m not sure if we’re getting this right. I’m not sure if we’re getting anywhere. I’m not sure if the cycles are being broken. I’m not sure if the seeds are growing or things are changing.

And while I make the choices and risks and investments of myself, I worry about the ones that affect my son. I worry about the thousands of dollars invested in this neighborhood, in us, and in our friends.

Grace is here.
Grace is here.
Grace is here.

This is how I fight my battles.
This is how I fight my battles.
This is how I fight my battles.