protection

Is Grace Enough?

/ Jana

My 92-year-old dad’s health is rapidly declining. My dog just had surgery and we are awaiting test results to see if it’s cancer. My kids are each going through their own wrenching challenges. My husband’s job has been erratic. And on and on it goes. What’s your list look like?

This is just the obvious stuff. The next layer is even more tender. There’s the grief of losing my mom and the anticipated grief of losing my dad soon. The fear and helplessness of not being able to influence my children can take my breath away. The decision fatigue of managing so many things at the same time sometimes leaves me wanting to run away at best, or zone out and binge a show at worst.

And underneath all of this is my love for God. And the love from God.
I have to stop and pause. I have to stop and remember. He is the way maker.

More than a great song lyric, He really is the one who makes rough places smooth. His light leads through the darkness. He takes me on well-worn paths and to uncharted trails. He guides me through the fire, through the flood. He sets me high upon a rock.

He leads me to green pasture. To rest. To settle. To focus again.

Since I know that nothing is a surprise to Him,
since I know He plans ahead for me,
since I know that He is always with me,
I can turn to Him, see His face, hear His voice, and understand what He wants to show me in these very harried moments.

Today, He says that life is a gift. Don’t waste it by complaining about what is wrong but look for the good, His goodness in the moments.

Today He says that my faith in His provision is my gift to Him. Regardless of the swirl, He has already provided for me and I “get to” watch and anticipate His movement in my life.

Today He says that grace is a reality for me to pull on, to expect, to stand on. It is a divine presence in every situation. I can bank on it.

Last year, God gave me this beautiful revelation about the word grace as represented in Hebrew letters. Hebrew letters are pictures that reveal a much deeper meaning. The word “grace” is literally the letters that mean “beautiful camp.”

The Israelites were a nomadic people so they would travel and then set up tents in a circle close to each other. They would overlap the tent cords on the outside circle of the tents to form a barricade from animals and invaders. Then they would open up their tents to the inside of the circle so that they could freely visit, the children would play safely inside the tent circle. More on this later.  However, God gave me the phrases:

Protection from without.
Provision from within.

That is what I can expect and hope and trust and rely on when I say I need grace. His grace.

God’s protection from without. God’s provision from within. He’s got me, and you, fully covered in grace. I truly am in good hands. And so are you.

The Fawn Down the Way

/ Jana / 1 Comment

We first saw her when she stood wide eyed in the middle of our small street, too paralyzed to move. We often have deer grazing in our back yard, or passing through our neighborhoods. So to see deer on the street is not unusual. But to see a baby this size without her mom was highly unusual. We assumed Mama deer was nearby with bated breath, eager to be reunited with her fragile fawn.

After several minutes, the fawn finally stepped slowly to the side of the road and we passed on by. I glanced in the rear view mirror and was so surprised that I stopped the car again.  The girls and I turned in our seats and looked back to see the baby step back into the road with stuttering steps. Suddenly the neighbor’s dog was coming toward her. “MOM!” Charis whispered in a panic, afraid for the deer.

“Just wait,” I said.
“Mom, what’s he doing?” Salem asked.

This hunting dog did not bark, nor was his head hunkered down or his fur raised. He was in no way on the prowl. Instead he paused slightly near the deer and then trotted slowly down the road. He stopped every few steps, looked to see if the deer was following, and then trotted a few more steps. This process continued until the deer was off the street and vanished up a wooded driveway.

We turned the car around and slowly edged back down the street to glance up the driveway where we had seen the dog then the deer disappear.

They stood there, face to face, about a foot apart, as if deep in conversation. The sound of our brakes interrupted their pow wow. They both looked at us, student and teacher, and then back to their conversation.

“Am I crazy, or are you two seeing what I am seeing?” I asked the girls.
“Mom, that dog is helping the baby deer,” Salem said quietly.

We sat in awe of the moment.

That was more than a month ago. And you see the now-growing doe meandering, eating, sleeping on the property where the dog lives. The other day she was playing in the field where the horse was. Before that she had a little deer poop in the dog’s back yard in broad daylight. The dog is always nearby overseeing, protecting.

One day I came through and saw the dog farther away from his home than normal.  We all immediately began seeking the deer. We knew that she had wandered off, again. He was bringing her back to his home. We don’t know how long she will stay, or even make it. But I’m not sure that is the point.

This has done funny things in my heart. Funny things about “who is my neighbor?” Funny things about this God who cares for the sparrows and evidently the orphaned fawn as well.

More strikingly it has stirred funny things about innocence of the young. Are we taking a posture of protecting the young among us? Are we doing whatever it takes to prepare and position them to live and thrive?  Are we actively moving them out of harm’s way? Even to our own sacrifice and inconvenience?

It may be a cold world out there. But this noble dog has provided a warm place for the fawn down the way and he has thawed some places in my own heart as well.