Grace

I've tried to write this post numerous times.  It has been difficult as I find I never get my point across.  Quite often I finish and I wonder did I pen my heart well enough?  

My heart is "GRACE".  

Freely given, unmerited, manifestation of favour.

There.  That's my point.

Now here's the blog.

For as long as I've known him, my husband has been misunderstood.  Or so that's the way I see it.  I love him.  My vision may be clouded.

So many times I have heard the words 'moody', 'quiet', 'selfish', 'cocky', 'bi-polar', 'egotistical' to describe him.  Mostly from those that don't really know him. (and not many do).  I have heard "He never says hi to me" or "What's wrong with him" or "Didn't take his pills today?" or "Is he happy or grumpy today?" 

They are always wondering why 'he is the way he is'.

Sometimes,  I would like to rhyme off a list of his wonderful qualities to them.  

Like: how he is FULL of 'passion' and  'loyalty'.  How he is 'goal-orientated' and gives everything he has AND MORE when he commits.  How he is full of 'patience' and ALWAYS says he's sorry first.  Even when he's right.  I would love to ask them how they can't see any of that instead.  Because, to me, it is so evident.

Just look at the way he treats me.

Most often though, I would love to share with them a small glimpse of our lives.  

Like inside, everyday glimpses.

 

For those of you who don't know, my husband works for our city's police force.  He works in a unit called ERT (emergency response team--SWAT for those in the USA) as the sniper.

He's so cute eh??

Our city isn't huge.  (current guesstimate @ 60 000)  Which means there isn't enough crime for a full-time team.  So, he works on the road, as well as acting sargeant.

BUT 

THERE IS STILL CRIME.

And until one is faced with the crime AND situations that he deals with daily, then one will never know why he 'is the way he is'.

I couldn't even start to describe the "stuff".  Seriously, there are days I don't ask because it makes me physically sick.  I will see him sitting quietly on the couch after he's woke up, and my breath gets caught in my throat as I wonder what he may have seen last shift.

Did he see a child that had been sexually assaulted.  Or a mother and wife who was beat up. Had someone attempted, or succeeded in taking their own life?  How many drunks did he arrest?  Did they call him names?  Or spit on him?  Did he have tears in his eyes like I have in mine?

Take tonight for instance.

It's 11:00 p.m.  

Most of you are sleeping--or at least heading that way.

Not him.

He's on his way to work.  In a large city not our own.  He will be dealing with some very dangerous people, that have very dangerous weapons.  He will be knocking down doors, pulling out guns, yelling really loud.  His adrenaline will be pulsing.  He will for sure be sweating.  He may see small children caught in the middle.  There may be blood.  He will be called names. Bad ones.  He may get punched, spit on, kicked.  Or worse.

God willing, he will make his way back home sometime tomorrow.  He'll try to catch a few zzzzz's.  He will get up, kiss his wife, hug his children. He'll barbeque chicken.  Go rollerblading with the kids.  Help his daughter deliver papers.  

He may talk.  

He might not.

He might smile.

He might not.

Whatever.

You see, the best part about grace is that WE DON'T DESERVE IT!    I could list a million things on here to make you understand my husband--but you never will!  God designed him unique.  As he did you and I.  My husband may never be the man YOU want him to be.  He may never handle things the way I might.  He will NEVER see, or hear, or feel enough to deserve grace.

But he will ALWAYS get it.  From God.  And me.

That's the point.

Undeserved, unmerited, freely given.

You may not even know my husband personally.  I'm not specifically asking you to extend grace to HIM.  I am relaying a portion of our lives that is so often misunderstood.  And in that, I hope you may realize that there are people in YOUR lives that are misunderstood as well.  We all have a story.  

The cashier at the grocery store.  The person who delivers your mail.  Who teaches your child. Who cleans your teeth.

None of us deserve grace.

We all can extend it.

Wordless Wednesday

I'm still 'allowed' in my kids rooms.  They're too young to fully understand 'privacy' and 'rights'.  Thankfully.  

'Cause I'm just not sure how I'm going to 'deal' with all that.

Besides.  It's cool if mom is in their rooms right now.  It means she's either playing or cleaning, and doing both of those alone, often sucks. 

So, for now, I enter.

Recently,this is what I found.

PLEEAAASSEEEEEEE  no one tell my mother she's almost 100.  She truly believes she's still in her early sixties!  

Trimming our crowns..

We just weren't blessed with 'luscious locks'.  (both my girls have two crowns!! ugh!)  I'm not bitter.  It is what it is.  We got the big blue eyes.  And we did GET hair.  Just not the hair that we would have asked for.  That's more than we can say for the man of the house.  I'm not going to kick up a stink and ask why we didn't get both-the eyes and the hair.  We just didn't.

Which is probably why I LOVE a haircut.  When you have less than desired of anything, it is wonderful to have a professional deal with it.  Right?  That, and my mother's views on hair.  She has this thing.  We won't go there.

Feeling overly shaggy, this weekend we set out to get some hair cuts:

Baby girl was NOT impressed that mommy had scissors anywhere near her ears.  She has no idea what 'bad hair' is.  She doesn't care.  She does care about her ears though.       (And, for the record, so do I.)

Big girl 'before'

during

VOILA!!

Now that's a sight!

It's all down hill from here?!

I finally did it. 

Told myself I wouldn't. 

But I did.

It took a lot of coaxing. 

I almost cried when I handed the cashier the $3.77.

She asked me if "I was alright?  Was there something wrong?"

"Oh no.  I'm fine."  **sniff sniff**

"I'll see you next week when I'm picking up my 'Depends'. "

"Have a wonderful day."  **sniff sniff** 

It's all down hill from here...

Praying for Abby

The wonderful thing about blogging is the network of "friends" it allows one to have.  The majority of blogs I peruse I don't even know the authors.  If you don't have a blog, this might sound freaky.  If you do have one, you understand.  

Recently I've happened upon a blog on one familys' day-to-day only to discover there little girl, Abby, is very sick.  Today she is having a VERY VERY rough day.  If you have a moment, please stop and pray for her.  

When you are done, take a minute to check out an online magazine her daddy publishes.  It's really quite interesting.  You can find it at www.seriouslifemagazine.com.  Thanks!!!