riff raff

A few weeks ago a woman, a stranger, showed up at my door needing help.  The story is not entirely mine to tell.  But, I can tell you that the entire interaction between the police department and her left me breathless.  I am quick to stand in the gap for someone being mistreated.  And, that's the role I jumped into.

At the end of the interaction, one of the officers came back in my home to caution me against allowing riff raff in my home.  The woman I helped had just been taken from my home by ambulance with hypothermia.  The whole thing felt surreal.  But, those words echoed through my soul for days to come. Every time I remembered them, a lump welled up in my throat.  Riff raff?  Really, a human, in need of help, and what you saw was riff raff?

Tonight, I sat with my family to read a chapter from the Jesus storybook bible.  We light our advent candles, I read a story, we all read together Mary's song from Luke, then listen to a related song while the kids draw their interpretations of some part of the story.
Tonight's story caught my breath though, and the image of a woman in my living room flashed through my head.

"You see, people thought shepherds were nobodies, just scruffy old riff raff.
  But God must have thought shepherds were very important indeed, because they're the ones he chose to tell the good news to first."

When Jesus came, the first people God was like, 'hey, come look at my son' to were the riff raff.  They were the woman left in abandoned houses to die.  They were the homeless men and women we avoid eye contact with because we're uncomfortable.  They were those with cognitive delays that make us uncomfortable with their incoherent shrieks, and unabashed willingness to touch strangers.

I don't think it's because they had nothing else going on.  I think it's much more likely that Jesus' family were seen as riff raff. Unwed mother. Physical laborer for a father. Very few people are going to show up to worship the king of riff raff.  Unless you go and find others in that some lowly position.  They'll have ears to hear.  They'll have eyes to see.  And, they'll have no qualms falling on their face in worship since they aren't worried about position and reputation.

Blessed are the poor.  The riff raff. The outcast.  They're the first ones that God showed up to tell about His son.  They're the ones with the kind of life position where they are most willing to leave their job on a hillside to find Christ.  And, He seems to seek them out to make certain they know how loved they are by Him.  Even if so many people around them fail to see their worth.

Magic mundane.

Today we made cookies.  Just tiny and I.  He's been full of medical adventures of late.  He's currently without a cast for scoliosis due to pain he was having.  We have testing coming up in January to find out if the pain is caused by his spinal cord retethering.  We are waiting for insurance to approve (or deny) a very broad genetic test for him so we can give a name to whatever the things are that have caused his differences. He is getting afo's. And, a Boston TLSO for his scoliosis.  He starts growth hormone tomorrow via daily home injections. He's lost strength in his legs.  He's getting ready to turn three, and with each new year with him, I feel as if we are given more puzzle pieces.  More diagnoses.  And, less answers.
But cookies make the world feel normal.  Good.  Chocolatey.  So we baked.  And, we ate.  And, in the midst of feeling weighed down by the heavy things, normalcy is beautiful.  Mundane becomes magic.  And, oatmeal chocolate chip cookies become medicine.


*If you're interested in following our growth hormone story, feel free to find it on Instagram under #ashergrows *

 

 

 

 

Flour everywhere.

Trying brown sugar.

Adding chocolate chips.

Eating the ones that were spilled.

Ready to bake.

Eating chocolate chips while we wait.

Still warm.

Mmmmmmm....cookies.

Grace upon Grace.

I ran along next to the river all the while going through the same thoughts in my head that loop through it quite often, all directed to God in an accusational prayer like fashion:
     I don't think you give people, children, specifically, my children, hard things.  I don't think you chose for them to have all of this medical crap.  I don't think you picked Jason and I out of all the parents and thought we'd be amazing at this.  But, I think you knew it would be like this.  And, I'm not sure why you didn't intervene.  Are you able to?  Do you really change circumstances, ever?  It's been eight years of asking this stuff.  Am I always going to be asking it?  Will you please just give me an answer of some sort.

I took a deep breath and looked out over the water, waiting.  Hoping.  Something.  Anything, at this point.  Please.  And, then I heard it. Or, thought it.  Those first few words from a favorite verse. 'Grace upon grace.'

What?  What does that even mean?

 'You are welcome to keep asking.  You might ask for the rest of your life.  There's grace for that.'

What if my faith is never the same as it was before?
'That's okay. Grace. There is so much grace.'

I drank the idea in.  I just kept gulping it, wanting it to fill me up.  I'm allowed to be in a place where I have no desire to speak in absolutes, continue asking questions, and God will continue to give me favor.  Favor that I did nothing to earn.

Over the months since I stood there in that spot next to the river, I find myself wanting to pour that same grace out on others.  In words.  In deeds.  In the way I live and love.  I find that the more drinks I get, the sweeter the taste of it all, the more I want to share it with others.  I feel full of it.  And, interestingly enough, the verse says that it's from His fullness that we have received grace upon grace.  And, it seems once we receive those things, we now have a fullness that causes us to pass it on.


So grace to you friends.  May you be filled with the favor of the one who loves you, just as you are, at this very moment.  May you know that His love is able to handle your anger, questions, joy, and sorrows.  May you know Him as the loving creator who loves you simply because you are.  And, may you experience grace upon grace.