Two boxes. One in the living room in front of the white seven shelf book case giving shelter to books, framed photos of family, and cute plants from Ikea…because I can only handle the fake plants. I kill the real ones. Like I kill succulents. #Truestory The other box is in my bedroom just left of the smaller of the two closets. Most of the art work I’ve collected or been gifted over the past few years are waiting to take their assigned positions on my imagined gallery wall in the living room opposite the kitchen. Other than those two boxes, all boxes that were to be unpacked had been unpacked. Did I mention I moved in just after Christmas? It’s March, and it’s taken a lot to get to just these two boxes.
Two days in. Two days into unpacking I was flustered and would have given just about anything to only have two boxes. There was so much stuff, what felt like so little room, and I promise I was moving and doing as much as I could. Unpack a box, break down a box, haul them to the recycling dumpster along the side of my Victorian turned apartment building when the pile was big enough to block the pathway from the living room to the kitchen. By day four and with work at the university set to resume, I poured a glass of wine and paused. I scanned my 2nd floor walk up and smiled. I took a short video and sent it to a close friend. At this point I was beaming at my progress. I wasn’t down to the two boxes that I have left today, but I had a sofa that was cleared off and I could stretch across for a Sunday nap, an unpacked and functioning kitchen that already made omelets, sautéed veggies, smoothies, and pancakes, and I could easily find shoes and boots and dresses that I could wear to work and for after work gatherings. I was encouraged. As work at the university resumed and my newly launched private counseling services complete with a new office a few blocks away from my new abode launched, I made room to unpack and pause. It was a rhythm, a rhythm that allowed me to see the progress I was making each time I paused, to acknowledge what was and be encouraged about what will be. In the messiness, each time I was willing to surrender and not be overcome by my apartment not looking exactly as I wanted or what I thought it would look like by now, each time I was able to pause, I was able to truly see all that had been done. I found myself hopeful about that which still needed to be done.
As we create a rhythm of rest, move with and not against the eb and flow of grit and grace in our lives, we actually see through the messiness of our lives instead of only seeing the messiness and becoming unraveled, discouraged, or resentful. We see the progress. We see where grace has kept us, provided for us, has creatively engineered the fitting together of the current pieces of our lives. We see where grit has allowed us to be steadfast, focused, discerning, and able to withstand what we thought would consume us.
We see the sofa and acknowledge when it’s ready for hosting us, not bed linens, bathroom linens, shoes we need to return, and a pile of books we’re thinking of donating. We smile at the third morning in the last nine days that we made chocolate chip protein pancakes….because the protein totally makes them healthy…even if they are well endowed with maple syrup. We dance on the white bathmat as the music plays through the Bluetooth speaker hanging out on the windowsill equal distance between two super petite but oh so cute fake aloe plants. We notice how we aren’t knocking knees, stubbing toes, and banging elbows in the dark because we are familiar enough with the space to navigate it in the dark on a familiar 1am-ish bathroom break.
We see not getting a particular job as what wasn’t best in the moment and not a judgement against our professional abilities. We see the B on the midterm as the culmination of tutoring and foregoing a few Friday nights out with the girls and not a disappointing blow to our intelligence because we’re a few points shy of an A. We see the ghosting or break up as simply not working out and not a sentence to singleness forever or an indictment against the days we skipped the gym, went natural, asserted ourselves and didn’t play damsel in distress, or decided we wanted a grande and not a tall caramel macchiato. We see the denied approval for the small business loan as an opportunity to consider other funding streams or to read through the again and make edits to submit to another lender, not a dagger to our dreams or an inability to successfully launch as an entrepreneur.
We see grace keeping the pace for our lives, sufficiently sustaining us (2Corinthians 12:9), strengthening us (Isaiah 41:10), guiding us through the mayhem. We see it providing reprieve, fanning the flame of hope for the good plans God has for us (Jeremiah 29:11; Psalm 33:11).
My hope for you in the week ahead is that as you continue to unpack your life, your goals, your dreams, your disappointments, your fears, you take time to pause, to rest, to see the progress you are making to see the grit + grace you’ve been living into. May you see not all that needs doing but all that has been done, and may you be encouraged by that. Like seriously. Let it sink in. Smile. Take a picture or a video. Send it to a friend. Send it to me (hello@withlovegritandgrace.com). May you smile at what you’ve accomplished as possible and may it gird you with grit for what in the throes of busyness may seem impossible. May you see the scattered pieces of your life not as ancient ruins of what was but as a vast landscape still to be explored and cultivated. May you explore in the confidence that grace is with you and has given you the grit you need because grace has you covered (always).
With Love,
Grit + Grace