from an article originally posted February 9, 2015...

Today Spring slipped out of our Winter wanderlust and made us want to cut and paste things. We dusted off the hammock for a ride and pushed the wheelchair around the neighborhood. Neighbors outside enjoyed the winter break. Balls were being passed, garage floors were swept, and the breeze refreshed the hearts of anyone willing to breath deeply. The sun is too delicious not to enjoy. It was an infectious kind of day.

I opened new stationery and wrote a Valentine for a young man who likes to build with blocks at my house. I hope he will return for more building. The needed springtime could not be more welcome. The stationery, small and delicate, has room for my simple terms of love and joy. It's delicate and feminine, and has room for just a few tokens of love to be shared--just enough.  And stickers! Stationery with simple stickers. It's hard to believe last weekend had me in the hospital. The ups and downs of this journey can be wearing, but with patience there is sunshine. So much sunshine. This weekend I'm writing on notecards: love notes.

I want to wear dresses and dance to slow music and forget my pain. Sunday came and the sun kept showing off, though wind brought a chill to remind us winter isn't completely gone. I woke late, and nearly missed church. I rallied, I dressed, and we pushed my wheelchair into the room full of love. The room full of the same weak brokenness I sense every frail moment. Our church community is mastering the art of embracing the weak, knowing they are also the weak, even if they are not pushed in a chair. 

During communion, I couldn't help but notice the crumbs that kept falling from the bread basket. The spent body cracking and breaking onto the floor. I felt a sense of awe at the extravagance of the plenty, enough to spill over. And we all are taking our morsel and longing for nourishment beyond what we see and feel of this place. It's a mysterious meal. Something feels extravagant that the broken bread has an overflow of crumbs, and overflow of brokenness it doesn't try and hide. It feels like we may all be okay. The enough-ness of the meal in all of its simple frugality is hard to understand. Jesus is enough. He must be enough. He will sustain us through bottoms, tops, victories, and failures. The place to be broken, the place to rejoice, the landing place to meet the worst of ourself and be met.... 

A weekend full of wonder. The normal moments made bright from the dark places from where we have come from. It's hard to believe last week we were in the hospital, and now we are writing in journals and enjoying Spring’s tickle on our lives. The joy of cut and pasting made new, and the joy of being together in simplicity that nourishes our souls. Napping because we are able, eating at our leisure, and enjoying the fruit provided to make living large--living simple. This weekend was a gift of grace our tired and dry bones needed. As we walk into this week, we take a piece of that grace with us.

Did you find grace this weekend? Were you nourished by goodness from your community? Did you see the heart of grace in Jesus pursuing you specifically?