Unforced Rhythms of Grace

I have found my manifesto in my home.

I have children that I can't just bundle into car seats and take them everywhere. They're cats; it would terrify them. I love being with them! I have a husband with a physical condition that makes it very painful to be away from the comfort of home for any length of time. I love being around my guy!

I have been forced this week, due to putting my back out, to be up and bustling for only about an hour at a time, then have to lay down for about that same amount of time. God gave me yoga in February as an alternative to smoking. And I have a feeling He is both reminding me of the limits of being in my 40's and enabling my "get up and do" nature to be still and write.

Writing has been a huge desire for years and so often I have just not been able. And now I am! And it's super exciting! I’ve found both the habit and the words! I thrive from moving my body, which I will always continue to do. Yoga chose me and it has balanced me emotionally as well as physically in the most delicious way. Yet there are times to be still and cry out what is the beat of my heart.

That cry, that beat is that people and animals be reminded of who their Creator and Rescuer really are. I want you to know my Jesus!!! 

I was abundantly confused through lots of dogma growing up and, thanks be to God, my husband from the day we met has shown me God's wide-open spaces, a delightful place with soft blankets and gushing wells of joy where I learn to crawl and scooch and wobble towards Him to find His way of life, which is the way of grace.

I learn in yoga to transition from pose to pose with grace. And I don't mean in it in the sense of perfect poise, but instead of intention and gentleness towards our bodies with every bend and every twist. Like a baby who is hesitant yet determined, focusing only on that next step.

That whole ancient idea of being as wise as serpents and as gentle as doves. The dance of life is out there, but the focus becomes only in the beauty of the nuance of the next move no matter how miniscule. The spice, the light in the simplest action or word or prayer is the subtle flavor, the tiny spark that can turn the most hurt heart to understand the deep love of God for the very first time.

Illustration by Mary Engelbreit