Skip to main content

Grace within Firmness

https://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=1zzR3UnL1-SeMx3nbDL-haJZIQSDXamrp
As a Christian woman, I am learning there is a grace within firmness.


My husband and I purchased a washer and dryer in July. We were told we’d get our appliances at the end of August. 

We did not receive our appliances that hot Summer Louisiana date. So, I called multiple times requesting an estimated time of arrival. 

  • Miscommunication was the main factor in the elusive washer and dryer formula...the dryer is here, it disappeared, you will receive the washer in September...no, you will receive it in January. 

When I pondered this problematic equation, I thought about the newly released movie, Mulan. 


In the end, Mulan remained a truthful warrior and daughter. She arose like a graceful Phoenix empowering a poised boldness. 


After an array of calls, conversations, and tick-tock of the waiting clock, I achieved success like the refined strategies of Mulan. 


Christians are called to be bold. We are called to remain graceful amongst slip-moss rock situations. 


I had to reiterate my problems time after Mr. Time, while maintaining a Christian class. 


In turn, God has blessed my endurance with my obscure washer and dryer at the end of this day.


As Christians, be bold, be firm, but always equate with grace.


In whom we have boldness and access with confidence through our faith in him. - Ephesians 3:12

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I'm turning 30! Dad, I need you.

  As I sit here by myself, with the electric fireplace glowing in the background, I think, “I can’t believe I’m going to be thirty next month.”   March 16 th to be exact .   I’m going to be a thirty year old woman like the woman acting in the Hallmark movie I’m watching.   A new adventure awaits me as I stand atop the thirty year old mountain.   As I overlook the adventurous summit, there is a pinnacle peak missing, my dad.   I will be traveling emerald roads and picking fresh flowers without his guidance.   What would he think of me now?   Would he be proud of the woman I’m becoming?   What godly words would he have spoken at this time in my life? My twenties stampeded by like a band of Mustangs over the plains of Montana.   I remember turning twenty-one two seconds ago and taking a picture with my dad.   Snap!   Click!   Memory day branded.   That was the last year I would see my dad in pictures. ...

I Once Knew a Man

August 11th, 2008 will mark the 7th year anniversary of my dad's passing.  The journey of grief has taken my family and I to many places, through the shadowy woods trying to tread towards the light and standing in the sunshine with God's warmth upon us.  June 2013 was the year that my mom and I left our home in Michigan to be with my brother in Louisiana, who was pursuing a career in the oil field.  We needed a fresh start, a new beginning, a start of a peaceful chapter.  Michigan held many rooftop stamps (my dad owned his own roofing business) and camping "memory days".  Sweet memories bloomed everywhere, amongst the country and in the suburbs.  God decided that He wanted us to move to Houma, Louisiana, Cajun country, to build a new life.  My dad was an original Southern man, born and raised in Central Louisiana, a little town called Beaver (nope, don't even look on a map, because you won't find it).  Even though, I left my home in Michig...

Tap, Tap, Tap...Faith upon my Lap

  This is a memory I’ve never blogged about. I love blogging because, I can write about feelings, love, faith, and somehow, lengthen my dad’s legacy. An imprint was left on my soul that spans the meadows of Cades Cove, which was my dad’s favorite vacation spot. On my heart, he tied a forever memory knot. . His faith also traversed the mountains of the misty Smokies. My dad’s surmountable trust in God bequeathed throughout “heartlands”. . One evening, gentle faithfulness nested in our townhome. My dad was in the end stages of his earthly life and was preparing his soul to go heavenly home. Even though, my dad wasn’t fully coherent due to morphine, he still comprehended God’s love. He still understood ounces of hope. I opened the creased pages of his coffee stained Bible. The word of God was torn and disheveled from years of usage. This was a Bible of a man after God’s own heart. . I opened to Hebrews… . Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about w...