How it all becomes beautiful …

We pulled onto Hazelhurst Lane and I had to take a second glance as we rolled up the gravel road along the property line… Were all those beautiful fruit trees there before?  Jeff turned into the driveway. I looked up at the “ugly” house and had to shake my head. Was the landscaping greener than before? And where was that magnificent tree last time we were here? I stepped inside, into the little separate apartment downstairs. The living room was way bigger than I’d remembered, and that little 50s stove and 50s blue counter-tops. Hm… same color as my kitchenaid, I didn’t remember how retro-sweet this was.

I climbed the stairs onto the top floor, the main living space, taken aback at how huge the living room really is. This is way bigger than our other living room, way more room for family get-togethers… The odd on-top-of-the-roof balcony, that had screamed “tacky!” before, now washed in sunlit struck me as a perfect place for summer BBQs and early morning quiet times wrapped in quilt with coffee in hand.

The kids room, which seemed too small for two, when measured out and configured, was perfectly set up for two twin beds and two dressers. And our room — I’d certainly not remembered this — has one whole wall of windows overlooking the 2 acres of grass and trees.

When did this house become beautiful? 

When God graced my eyes with the ability to see. Grace. Grace. The house-sale is grace, this new-old house is grace, and the eyes to see that it’s beautiful is grace.

I caught myself. Wait, could this be? Yes. I’m EXCITED. Excited about this old house in all its lovelimess. The cracks, stains, musty smells, the odd-shaped windows and quirky characteristics. And here I was, beginning to think it was beautiful.

A little bit like how I’m beautiful in all my lovelimess. 

Isn’t that the way He sees me?

Because of Jesus, the Father sees us through the lens of grace. 

Then, wearing this lens, life happens and it becomes WAY more clear how beautiful this all really is. My mom, dear mom, who has battled so much physical suffering this year  — she breaks her leg in two places and is bound to a wheelchair. Dad, selfless Dad, is caretaker once again, but this time it’s pushed past what he can do. He’s exhausted.  Hire someone to come in? Head to an assisted-care facility? It dawns on us.

Our little downstairs apartment. 

It’s without a single stair. It has a kitchen, bathroom, little living room, without a single stair.

I jump at the opportunity and offer. And truly it’s largely motivated by my own needs — as I have a few situations this month that necessitate childcare, or at least someone with a pulse being home while my kids nap. Could we help them while they help us?  And my I’ve-got-it-by-myself-Dad says “Yes!” and we all embrace grace and decide to do this thing called life.

It’s looking more beautiful that I ever imagined. 

But isn’t it always like that when we embrace grace? Not always quickly, maybe not always even understood by us, but He is always for our good and His glory. 

God, let me be part of Your story.  Isn’t that our heart’s cry? And He lets us in, let’s us play on the playground of His glorious tale …

And He changes the way we see. It all becomes beautiful. 

{Thanks for reading.}