Spilling Grace

"It's all about me!"

We live in a world where selfies proclaim this point over social media every day.

But what if there's an underlying cry in our current selfie craze? What if the message is signaling our struggle to be present, to capture tiny moments, to make life count for something? Maybe even to be noticed.

 Recently I attended the funeral of a local farmer's wife. The farmer served as a prominent member of our small-town community, well-known employer, school board representative, and active in the local church.

Unlike her husband, Suzie served quietly. She worked hard on the farm, raised her children, loved her grandkids and helped in her church unobtrusively. There was standing room only at her funeral.

I thought about the reason I attended Suzie's funeral. I hadn't really spent any significant amount of time with her for years. The last time I saw Suzie was in the grocery store probably a year or more prior to her death. Yet she always made me feel like I mattered, enough to pause in her busy day and chat for a few minutes.

Women simply want to know they matter.

Two years ago, storm after storm battered our family, devastating my faith. Darkness enveloped my soul, blinding me to God's presence. I couldn't see Him anywhere. My wounded emotions led my thoughts down paths of rejection and abandonment. Late into the night, I sat on my bed and cried out to God, longing to see His hand change our circumstances. Instead I heard the still small voice I used to know so well.

"You can't see Me, child, but I see you."

He never took his eyes off me.

Months passed and the storm stilled; I came away with a new knowledge of God's love. I also learned the importance of noticing the people who cross my path each day. My prayer is that my life will spill grace upon each one as I pause to let her know I see her,  leaving her with the feeling she matters.




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