Refuge of Grace

Written in March of 2022

I find myself nestled in the plush white chair in the corner of our room, draped in a blanket. This spot is familiar to me like my morning cup of coffee. I didn’t make it outside today. My body was too physically exhausted and the onset of a cold kept me inside. My mind is also worn down—trying to piece together how I can be a mom, experience depression, and still allow my soul to flourish. Right now, this all feels overwhelming. I try my best to stop my brain from spiraling out of control.

To recenter myself, I glance out our bedroom window. Dusk surrounds our home in a warm embrace. The main stage for the sunset is outside the back of our house; however, from our bedroom, I gaze out the front, watching the side show of changing colors spread across the sky, the blends of color splice across the sky as the sun sinks lower. Just as a baker uses an icing knife to smoothly spread frosting on a delectable cake, the colors are smooth through the nearly night sky. Light pink, streaks of dark blue, a spritz of light blue, and a hint of light purple fill the sky. My ears awaken as I hear a faint sound of a bird in flight, experiencing this color swirl firsthand.

My mind lights up for a brief moment. God is the creator of the sunset; He is the grand artist of these colors. God also sculpted the bird and the Bible tells us he cares for the birds. I remember part of a scripture, that’s about all my mind can muster. I think it says, “If He cares for the birds and flowers, how much more will he care for you?” Or something like that, I think? I will cling to that truth. Even when my brain feels foggy, I will rehearse the blend of colors outside my window and the faint chirping of a bird. I will remember that the sculptor and artist of this moment also created me and loves me lavishly, just as He created you and loves you lavishly. This truth is enough to lighten the burden of this moment; may it be enough for you as well.