In the Fullness of His Grace

Begging your grace on today with my late Five Minute Friday post!  You know the drill!  Write for 5 solid minutes unscripted, no worries on the prompt for today.  And don't forget to share the love with the scribe that posted before you. Link up here. 

Take a breath and inhale His GRACE.

Tumultous waves thrashed and crashed against jagged rocks,

hissing and foaming,

rising up,

up,

up…

threatening to swallow anything or anyone in its path.

And like an angel,

she appeared out of nowhere and stood on the edge of the bank.

Gathering all of the breath in her tiny body,

she began to speak to the storm in a small, still voice.

Her voice was like a beautiful song – no more like

whispers of a lullaby,

enchanting,

soothing and caressing,

gently rocking the waves into a sweet, peaceful sleep.

And then she held up both hands before the waves

and looking up to the sky, 

she spoke to the heavens 

and

blessed the storm

in His name.

Master, thank you for sending her; thank you for your Grace.

We Own the Night

Like the nocturnal creatures that roam and rule

against the crescent moon

and the sparkly stars cast in the murky, midnight-blue sky,

we own the night.

Night time.

Time to put to bed the fictitious cast of characters

that rule the day;

time to say goodnight to all of the imaginary playthings.

Time to reflect on the blessings that make life worth our strife and struggle.

It’s our special time- just me and my little boy.

We own the night!

The music lured me into his room- “Hey Jude” from Bedtime With the Beatles, softly cooed in the background.  Malachi was STILL awake – 10:30pm, eyes wide open!  I approached his bedside. His eyes wildly pointed to the Dynavox mounted to his bedside; he wanted me to turn it on for him. 

“No, Malachi.  It’s bedtime.  The Dynavox has gone to sleep and so should you!  Go to sleep, baby.”  
Malachi shut his eyes tight, then immediately popped them open.  I laughed out loud. 

“Malachi, did you just go to sleep?”

He blinked, “yes.”  His eyes darted back to the Dynavox and then to me, pleading…

I just shook my head at him as I smiled.  He was trying really hard to persuade me to turn on his communication device - most likely so that he could request a movie to watch.

“Mal, you need your rest.  You can have the Dynavox in the morning.  I promise.”

Malachi glanced longingly at the Dynavox and then back at me.

“How about I lay next to you while you fall off to sleep?  Can I lie down in your bed, Malachi?”

He fluttered his eyes – yes.

I scooted into Malachi’s bed and wrapped his arm across mine.  I looked at him and he looked right back at me, eyes dancing.  I leaned over and planted a ton of juicy kisses on his cheeks.

“I’m cold Malachi.  Can you share your blanket with me?”

Malachi fluttered his eyes, yes.

I grabbed his hand and placed mine over his.  Together we pulled the edges of his orange, Kente blanket across me.

“Thank you, Malachi.”

  His eyes fluttered.

We lay quietly together staring at the shapes on the ceiling as an all-instrumental version of “Penny Lane” hummed in the background.  Niiiice… 

At the close of the song, I peeked over at Malachi to see if sleep was beckoning.  Nope.  He was looking right at me! 

“Malachi, aren’t you sleepy?”

Long blink – Nooooooo!

I smirked and rolled my eyes.

“Ok, let’s see.  Let’s name all of the people who love  Malachi, okay?”

Quick flutter – yes.

“Does Mommy love Malachi?”

 Flutter, flutter – yes.

“Does Daddy love Malachi?”

 Flutter, flutter – yes.

Does Joshua love Malachi?”

Flutter, flutter – yes.

“Does Roscoe (our dog) love Malachi?”

 Blank stare.

“What about Nan?  Does Nan love Malachi?”

 Flutter, flutter – yes.

“Do Malachi’s nurses love Malachi?”

 Flutter, flutter – yes.  He was enjoying our exchange.

“Does our church family love Malachi?”

 Flutter, flutter – yes.

“And what about God?  Does God love Malachi?”

 Flutter, flutter, flutter! YES!!!

“That’s a lot of love, Malachi!”

 More emphatic flutters. 

My heart somersaulted with joy! It never ceases to amaze me that with all that Malachi has going on, he gets it; he knows that God truly loves him.  When I think about Malachi accepting his challenges, yet understanding God’s infinite love for him, I think about this bible scripture:

We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.  We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body.  2 Corinthians 4: 8-10

For me, that scripture says that the weight of our "cross" does not out weigh the love of our God. The infinite love of God restores, heals and liberates. And like Jesus, our suffering won't be in vain; we have our own resurrection to look forward to.  The remarkable gift of God's love is His saving grace.

Moments later, Malachi drifted off to sleep, but not before I snuggled him close and whispered this prayer in his ear:

Dear Lord,

Thank you for this day.  Thank you for your love, your mercy and your grace.  Thank you, God, for this special little boy who uses his eyes to speak his heart.  Thank you for the angels who protect and watch over us during the night.  Thank you for the stars and heaven that manifest dreams we never, ever imagined.  And thank you, Lord, for the magic of night; for her whispers of wisdom found in the still, quiet moments of your peace & amazing grace.  AMEN

To Gail, With Love...

Five Minute Friday ~ SHE

I don't know about you, but for me, it was a long week!  Thank God it's Friday! And thank God for Five Minute Friday.  The writing prompt for today is SHE. Whatever wells up in your spirit on this prompt, go for it! 5 minutes, no editing, no worries, just WRITE!  And then link up below to share your masterpiece with other writers, get some love (encouragement) and share some love as well! Ready? GO!

1995.  With her, I never saw “it” and I fully expected to – I had heard all of the horrific stories about that dreadful disease and how “it” destroyed people beyond recognition.  But, from the moment I met her, I recognized her. 

                         She was beauty. 

                        She was strength.  

                       She was courage.  

                      She was laughter.  

                      She was genuine 

                               and 

                      she was a free spirit.  

Except for the nasal cannula across her face, I would have never known that she was sick – very sick.  Would have never known that “it” had spread throughout her body and was at work on her demise….

I loved visiting her. We were new friends who felt like old friends – her eyes would light up with a smile, her embrace was genuine and lingering.  Whenever I visited, she made it easy for me to arrest my unspoken curiosity and fears about it because she never talked about it; it never mattered to her – and thus, it didn't matter to me.  And although it had power in her body, it never had power in her spirit or in her life.   It didn't change who she was.

 Later that year, she died,and I wept uncontrollably for  the loss of my sister-friend.

Over the years, as I remember her, it’s not in sadness and mourning, but rather in celebration of her vibrancy and the brevity of her spirit.  By the example of her living, she showed us all how to die in the most beautiful way – with His perfect peace and in the fullness of His grace.

"But by the grace of God, I am what I am and His grace to me was not without effect.  No, I worked harder than all of them - yet, not I, but the grace of God that was with me."  1 Corinthians 15:10

The Name Above All Others

“And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by men.  I tell you the truth, they have received their reward in full.  But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen.  Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.  And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words.  Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask Him.”    

                                                            Matthew 6: 5-10

I only intended to whisper His name into the ebony night,

but the full force of His power sprang from my lips as I called His name –

FATHER!

That’s all.  Nothing else to say. 

I closed my eyes and sighed a heavy sigh and let myself go before Him.

He knows.

I know, that He knows.

Yet, the heaviness didn’t quickly subside; it just settled deeper into the crevices of my heart until I brought it up again with an anguished cry,

FATHER!!!

And the tears freely cascaded down my cheeks

and the tension released its grip on my body.

I felt His arms around me – strong, yet gentle; stoic, and ever so comforting.

As I settled into His embrace,

I inhaled the aroma of peace, healing and blessed assurance.

FATHER.

This time it is a whisper-

a soft, delicate whisper,

like a lullaby gently lulling me into sweet sleep.