The young girl preferred playing with real dishes rather than the small plastic ones, and she liked real babies rather than the artificial ones. And by the time she turned seven years old, she had just one older brother, and four younger ones, so there was plenty of opportunity to be Mommy’s little helper. She created her own self-expectations, eager to do well both at home and at school. Sunday School was a delight with its stories and animated music, and ushering her into the hush and awe of the Sunday morning church services. Growing up in a corner of New York City, family walks down to the waters of The Narrows and playing around the cannons of the old fort hid the store fronts and apartment buildings for just a little bit. For a child in the city, even in a three room apartment on an upper floor, life was still good except for the disturbing, recurrent dreams of the nights spent with family friends. And shortly after that seventh birthday, Daddy was gone for the first time.
Her self-expectations continued to grow and so did her questions. Church and legalistic Christianity had no answers for her. Disturbing nights with family friends evolved into a long and scattered litany of abuse. Not just with those family friends, but with others. Daddy eventually didn’t come home at all, and by that time, two little sisters had joined the houseful of brothers. But even the house didn’t stand. It was replaced by a far bigger conglomeration of walls and rooms that brought together lots of children whose daddies quit coming home. Mommy was Mom now, and she reunited her broken family, but by then the siblings all struggled with questions and unmet expectations, sometimes forcefully, physically, unloading their emotions on each other. The young girl was now emerging into young adulthood, her heart darkened, empty, victimized again by abuse, and her questions stayed unanswered. To choose a dark road that echoed the darkness of her heart became a possibility.
He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater, He sendeth more strength when the labors increase;
To added afflictions He addeth His mercy, to multiplied trials, His multiplied peace.
When we have exhausted our store of endurance, when our strength has failed ere the day is half done,
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources, our Father’s full giving is only begun.
His love has no limits, His grace has no measure, His power has no boundary known unto men;
For out of His infinite riches in Jesus, He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again.
Unknown to the secret, searching heart of the emerging young woman, instead of a dark road, God’s miracle of grace began to unfold. Pastor Val visited our church again, and he spoke about a grace I knew he was familiar with. The young woman came to that same familiarity. God’s grace is always sufficient no matter what our story is, and no matter where we are in our journey. His grace allows us to be something we’re not, and to do the something we cannot do in our nothingness. But our nothingness brings us to our God, and He teaches, and strengthens, and guides. He walks our journey with us, shaping us for the potential He has for us, assuring us of His presence and His unfailing love, immersing us over and over and over in the endlessness of His grace. And as the miracle of His grace unfolds in a radiance only God can give, it becomes the compelling light for another still in the darkness, and the miracle of grace begins again.
– Bev
He Giveth More Grace, words by Annie J. Flint (and related Bible reading :1 Corinthians 15:10; 2 Corinthians 12:9,10; 2 Corinthians 1:8-11; Psalm 40:1-3)
