Thursday, August 7, 2008
I was attempting to prepare dinner at the end of a long day, but the baby, Jesse, was tired and crying, and I was tired of the crying. So, I retreated to the front porch with Jesse for a little reprieve and change of scenery. I whispered a "Lord, help me" for my attitude, my weakness, my grumbling. Only minutes passed, and Jesse started trying to eat the tiny pieces of dirt, bark mulch, anything that she could find. "It's back inside," I thought, swooping her up. At that, a neighbor came quickly out asking if I was going back inside because she had wanted to see the baby. Forty-five minutes later my dinner was cooked, my husband was home, and the three of us were together, sharing our meal. My neighbor had held Jesse the whole time, playing with her, loving her. Grace. Sweet, unexpected, grace.