Today is my 25th birthday. We’ve been in the midst of a crazy season: teething babies, tantrum throwing toddlers, business trips and general life busyness. We’ve been pulled every direction lately (and just after I made that commitment to slow down!) I’ve been truly ready to tear my hair out the past week. You other stay-at-home Mom’s know what I’m talking about. That moment when you JUST CAN’T LISTEN TO ANOTHER MINUTE OF FUSSING OR YOU ARE GOING TO LOSE IT!

Then, Thursday morning my Grandaddy had a heart attack.  The struggles are so close to my face right now, it feels hard to see anything else.

But the Lord woke me up this morning. He said he had a birthday present for me. So I wiped the sleep from my eyes, came downstairs and opened up the backdoor. In the grey skies I saw the reason my children hadn’t been the ones to wake me up at 5:50am, which has been one of the many teething pranks that Boaz has been pulling on Willy and I for two weeks now. The air was so fresh and the morning quiet and serene; except for one squirrel chattering angrily from a nearby tree. I’m not sure who he was mad at, but I was pretty far away, so I don’t think it was me.

Thank You Jesus. It dawned on me; thank you for these 25 years. 25 years of good health, a wonderful family that loves me and raised me well. Nine birthdays with the man of my dreams. Two beautiful children who will both someday have all the teeth they need to chew their food properly! He has done so much in my life the past 25 years. So today, really isn’t about me. It’s about God’s glory, which he has seen fit to lavishly sprinkle all over my blessed life. By God’s grace, I have changed a lot in the past 25 years, even more drastically in the past 4. He has been faithful to continue to sanctify and mold me to be more like his son; even when I act like my two year old and throw a fit about it.

Yesterday I was so mad and sad after hearing that my Grandaddy is in heart failure. And all day as I stomped around through the fog, I could tell God was trying to get my attention. A song on the radio. An encouraging word from a friend.

“Look a me,” I could hear him saying. But I was like my toddler during a time of correction; turning my face from side to side, refusing to meet his loving gaze. When I finally submitted enough to give him a sidelong glance, this is what he said: “I love you. I am working things for your good. You can trust me. It’s going to be okay. You are going to be okay.”

His ways are higher and wiser than our ways. And what seems like an unalterable mess of a world in my eyes, is just the palet and the paints in the hand of the Mighty Artist.

He has been faithful to bring beauty from the ashes. To lead us through the valley. I must make the decision to trust in his future grace; grace enough for another week, another year, another 25 years; and the rest of what my life will bring.

UPDATE: After posting this this morning I got a text from my Dad saying that Grandaddy is NOT in heart failure. They did another test which confirmed that while his heart is quite damaged, he is not currently in heart failure. It will be weeks until we know how much his heart will heal, but praise God there will be weeks! Happy Birthday to me!



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