Monday, August 4, 2014

An Anthem Of Grace

The melody drifted softly from the intercom.  

Some sweet kind of song.

The lyrics were muted by the whispering, hushed voices, and one small child’s happy screech. 

Glossy floors waxed with thick layers of polished onyx inlay, create a winding ribbon which we follow down the long corridor. I’m distracted by the faint smell of coffee which seems to be coming from the opposite direction.

And that’s the way I want to run. 

The other way.

Hospitals seem so impersonal. So rigid. So cold.

The sound drifted off as easily as it had arrived and we all stared with blank looks as the numbers light up and the elevator rises.

There are thin places rising in my heart too. 

Places that are raw and exposed.

We are here to usher in a new life though, not talk about the hidden deep things in my soul.

In these last months I have heard some of their whispers, while the silence of others has been deafening. 

I get it some days how we people think that if you do things right and pray hard and memorize a few verses that everything will turn out great in this walking with Jesus life.

And trust me, JQ and I have spent years trying to figure the parenting thing out. Too often we have believed that if our kids turn out great, that we must have done enough of all the right things.

But what we know is that it. is. all. grace.

And now this one tiny beating heart who didn't ask to be born....

One pint size miracle, that we have peered through the sound waves trying to capture a glimpse of her so many times, in the last months. 

Once, I saw her little chin and thought it must be her mamas. Another time she covered her face as if to save the beautiful reveal for later. 

I’m so grateful that if there was a choice -that if life was an option, thank goodness, love won out.

That's what Jesus did for us when He hung on the cross. 

His love won out and now it is all about the grace He extends to us. 

It makes me thankful for the ones who do it all backwards.

For all those who are messy and messed up and remind me, what real grace is. 

And Grace is free. 

It is a gift that can not be earned but only accepted.

And we accept it and embrace it. More than that, I extend grace and cling to it. 

Mostly I’m sitting here in a waiting room with palms opened to the sky, praying that God in heaven is hearing my heart.

Thank goodness, God’s grace is exactly that. GRACE! There is nothing we can do to earn it. The person who looks like they follow all the rules and who can sing in tune while doing it all right, falls as short as the ones who look like they are doing it all wrong. 

Isn't that why Jesus came? 

And now, God’s elaborate grace is displayed in this package of skin.

This tiny human, with the perfect number of fingers and toes, and fist clenched. This squalling life, pushing forth, tearing open all the misconceptions of what God’s grace really looks like. 

We cradle grace in our arms.

And when we understand that we can never be right-enough, then we begin to understand how God’s grace really works. 

As she first drew life and breath into her tiny lungs, from overhead the song rang out.

The lullaby.

The sound we had heard hours before. 

The song they played over the intercom every time a new baby makes their debut.

The rhythmical, pattern of sweet beauty in song.

Notes that harmonize and weave the gentle message of glorious joy.

Another miracle.

New life. New beginnings. New grace. 

And all that is real life, is ridiculous, extravagant, grace. 

The Brahms Lullaby, plays soft, steady and sweet.

It is an anthem to Gods grace.

An alleluia to the story He is weaving.  

When God writes a story, He often starts with small unlikely beginnings. 

And this story begins with a tender lullaby, a psalm, an anthem of grace.


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© Rhonda Quaney