Third Trimester Lessons in Grace

I would try to write about the past month but there would not be much coherent thought in the mix.

I will just say that third trimester pregnancy hormones leave my emotions somewhere between rage, peace, depression, & joy; my husband and I fight and make-up; my son is already teaching me the pleasure & pain of parenthood because sometimes I think I can feel his soul growing along with his body as he demands more space inside me; my calling leaves me disillusioned, yet purposed; and through all the noise and anxiety and broken bits of life, my Savior keeps faithfully whispering, "I have loved you with an everlasting love."

Last week I was challenged when listening to a pastor remind a room full of people in full-time ministry of the gospel: "What we're doing [ministry] is important, but compared to God's love and mercy toward you... it is insignificant." 

The question is do I dare place my fragile identity in the hands of God rather than anything else? Particularly what I do?

If we're being honest, the answer is no. I don't dare. I lack the courage ... or maybe the humility.

Yet it seems necessity demands it, and maybe she will birth not only invention, but also faith in my life.

Faith in grace.
Grace that saves.

Saves me when I explode in anger at my husband.
Saves me when I wake up in the dark and fear seems to be winning.
Saves me when I allow cynicism to poison my heart & speech.

I would eat the crumbs of this grace off a long empty plate to only taste that kind of freedom.

This is continuing to work out our salvation? So that we can one day not merely subsist on the crumbs of a grace-secured identity but rather sit as sons and daughters at His table.

May each time I come, my faith increase so that I may take a bigger portion of grace, and one day may I have enough faith to stay at His table and lean against Him with my head on His chest, only rising to help others find the way there.