The Grace and Strength


I see the grace of God all over my life.  To be honest, I’m often completely overwhelmed by it.    Sometimes I can’t breathe and I cry.  It’s amazing, Grace.

If you met my daughter after high school you might not even realize that she has arthritis.  Maybe you never knew her when she could barely walk, when she was in a wheelchair.  When I pushed a nine year old in a stroller and people would stare and not even smile.  She’d say “what do I do when they stare?” and I’d give her the advice to stick her tongue out at them because they’d stop.  I would dare them to say something to me. 
Christmas 1997, the year of diagnosis

Last night I watched the hard work, the perseverance of my daughter from a frail young girl to the strength of a woman.  I saw all the fight, and the crying, the hard work, I saw it be worth it.  I remember moments of barely holding on, I remember the days of prayers and friends carrying me when I couldn’t go on.  I remember.  We never gave up.  It's been almost 19 years since the day of diagnosis.

I love the saying “Strong women, may we be one, may raise them”.  But I know that the strength I have comes from when I surrender at my weakest moments, to God who carries me.

God’s grace is not lost of me.

Not everyone makes it to this moment, no matter how hard they work.  And not everyone sees the grace. 

Last night at Aerial
 
We don’t deserve it.  Sure we worked hard, but we don’t.  We deserve a life in hell, of consequences from our actions, and yet, we live a very blessed life.  We are surrounded by people who love us, even when we have been unloveable.  We live more than comfortably and we really do not want for anything. 

We live strong lives free from Rheumatoid Arthritis, the hell that it is. We look at it in the shadows of our darkest valleys.

We live in Grace. 

I can’t help but be overwhelmed.

It is amazing grace. 

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