Grace isn’t a little prayer you chant before receiving a meal. It’s a way to live. The law tells me how crooked I am. Grace comes along and straightens me out.
-D.L. Moody
Why the name, “A Record of Graces”? Well, for one, that’s been my life, although I haven’t always known it. I have been going through a journey of sorts and it just seemed fitting to name the blog I started in 2012, A Record of Graces. I began to write about my journey to trust God’s heart when I couldn’t see His hand for two very life-changing moments. The first life-changing moment was when I lost my mother and sister when I was 3 years old and forever lost a part of me. My mother died of hepatitis soon after she delivered my sister, who didn’t live very long. We were missionaries in Lima, Peru at the time. My identity for as long as I can remember was tied to being the little girl of that missionary who lost his wife and baby daughter. It was part of my dad’s testimony in every church he preached in. I was “Jean’s daughter” to all who knew, loved and remembered her. As a teenager when we would be on furlough visiting supporting churches, I would hear all the time, “I know exactly who you are! You look just like your mother!”. It wasn’t until I was much older that I began to know more about her. My dad never really wanted to talk about her for he’s never one to dwell on things very long. He remarried soon after my mother’s death, and we went back to Peru to continue with the ministry. In 2001, I attended my grandmother’s funeral where there were a host of relatives. I walked into the funeral home and was immediately surrounded by family (especially my mother’s cousins) who knew who I was instantly. It felt like a homecoming. It was so surreal how much I felt a part of them without having grown up nearby. I still keep in touch with a few of my cousins to this day. I was somewhat close to my aunt (my mother’s older sister), but that’s about it. Knowing my mother through photos and memories of the ones who loved her helped mend a few heart-wounds. A balm to my soul, truly. But the shadow of being Jean’s daughter haunted my stepmother and me from the beginning. I believe she tried to fill the gap, but it was difficult to feel like one family. I honestly do not believe people commented with harsh intentions on our past, but the words left a mark, nonetheless. Through time and grace, I have compassion for her whereas, in my younger years, I was resentful, not understanding her side of the story. It wasn’t until after my son Jonathan was born that we found some common ground. No matter the difficult years, she was a wonderful grandmother to Jonathan and I believe if she were alive today, she and my son would be the best of friends.
The second life-changing moment was when we buried our stillborn youngest son in 2003.
Of course, I’ve asked God why He allowed these things to happen. But then I have to ask why I should be exempt from heartache when I was never promised a perfect life. No one is. I was promised, however, a Comforter, an ever-present help in times of trouble. I am coming to a place where I realize that by grace and through faith, I will be ok. Whether I am to know His mind or not, God has His reasons. I have wished many times to be able to rewrite my story. Yet, there’s a reason why God wrote my story and I didn’t. It is easy to get distracted and to look away from what He has promised. He always gives me new grace for each new day for anything and everything I face. So I write about how grace comes along every day. I write about things that will bring me to notice Him and how I am to respond. I will close with these verses which sum up the reason I record the graces.
Is his mercy clean gone for ever? doth his promise fail for evermore? Hath God forgotten to be gracious? hath he in anger shut up his tender mercies? Selah. And I said, This is my infirmity: but I will remember the years of the right hand of the most High. I will remember the works of the Lord: surely I will remember thy wonders of old. I will meditate also of all thy work, and talk of thy doings.
Psalm 77:8-12