New post The Recovery Stroke

The Recovery Stroke

by wynnegraceappears

I stand and listen to it explained. The room full of souls is stone cold silent. I hear my breath. The stillness and quiet are profound. Birds have two wing strokes. Power and Recovery. And wood carver and sculptor Grainger McKoy observed that the birds weaker wing position, recovery, has the most grace and beauty. Grace and Beauty in recovery. I stay there. I rest in the nature of this. The God designed mechanics of this.

And I soak in this beautiful picture as it relates to Friendship Place. An amazing grace-filled hope-filled charity. I watch as the artist’s son waves his own wing span back and forth demonstrating recovery and power strokes. Bird and human anatomy collide for a moment in their sameness.

Friendship Place daily provides grace and mercy to the vulnerable and the broken. I am here to learn more of their ministry. Of the simple truth of extending grace in moments of vulnerability. The pronouncements of the mission are made with clarity and poise. The director, a Westpoint grad, answering the call on his life. Following the call into a ministry in the shadows of the steel mill. A First Gulf War veteran, God equips those he calls.

They are Jesus’ hands and feet, those called to this place.

McKoy’s "Recovery Stroke" sculpture , like all of his created beauty is breath taking. Punched in the gut after viewing beautiful.

A friend for years, Grainger says this on his website:

I’ve always been attracted to a wing when it is in the recovery position. This is when its the least productive and most vulnerable, yet here can be found a grace and beauty that exist nowhere else."

My grace is sufficent for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." — 2 Corinthians 12:9

and then he told me, My grace is enough; it’s all you need. My strength comes into its own in your weakness. Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ’s strength moving in on my weakness." 2 Corinthians 12:9 – The Message

In the shadows of the steel mill and in the shadows of my heart, His Grace soothes and strengthens.

And Paul continues in 2 Corinthians 12: 10 –" I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become."– The Message

Grainger carving a picture of Grace. Charlie, director of Friendship Place,walking out and extending Grace.

And the stories of individual needs being met rip the heart. The mom who breaks open the pack of diapers and steals two or three. Not the whole pack. A picture of her desperation and true charachter colliding.

And Charlie works it out to help her and cushion her fall. Preserve her dignity.

I soak in the stories; there are many. And I spot the silver "Recovery Stroke" pins around the room on a board member or two. I hear of the EGR people who have to take their meals to go when they disrupt.

Explanation is required. That is "Extra Grace Required" people. There is a collective laugh.

But that is me. I am that person in the shadows of the steel mill requiring extra measures of grace daily.

He he extends it. And I humbly receive.

A man who knows Grace and Beauty knows the Joy of sharing the good news of Christ. And he did that almost a quarter of a century ago. Instrumental in bringing The Patient One to the Lord, he is cherished by this wife and mother.

Patiently, stroke by stroke.

And Charlie will get up today and tommorrow. Cross to the otherside of !7 going South. Extending Grace and Mercy to those recovering from a stumble or a fall or a setback in their life journey.

Patiently, under the Grace covering of the Creator, pouring it out.

Drop by drop.

Poured out Grace.

" But those who wait upon God get fresh strength. they spread their wings and soar like eagles, they run and don’t get tired, they walk and don’t lag behind. " Isaiah 40:31

wynnegraceappears | February 29, 2012 at 3:45 pm | Tags: Charity, God Beauty, Grace | Categories: Grace | URL: http://wp.me/p2bYsv-pY

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Between A Rock And A Soft Place

I pick up my bones, look for a bookend of beauty in a gray day. Buy new leashes to tether furry children to self and head out. For water, salt, sand, sea, respite and rejuevenation.

And she jerks and hurts and breaks free. Breaks new leash. Tears free in a rip of Joy to be here.

This creation place of His is magnificient and I feel her uncontrollable excitement to be here. I press on with dogs and broken leashes and throbbing arm, finger from the headlong rush onto the sand. A dog friend called and she ran and I release her.

But the pressing on and the moving on was worth the small price of pain and inconvenience. My brand new leashes are now both broken and the beach walk, beauty walk becomes the $12 walk. But priceless.

We smell and we breathe and we see all this in the continuing on.

What amazing GIFT was waiting in the few steps forward.

What would have been missed in the turning back.

Glory waited to be discovered when disappointment and small hurt called turn back and go home.

I look down at retractable leashes pulled out to the maximum length, broken sagging wet and no longer useful. They have been mine for minutes and they are ready for the trash. Clips broken, handle broken all in a matter of minutes.

But how God reveals life to me in a moment on this shoreline. How pressing forth so often reveals beauty.

How what I bring and the tools I think are useful are nothing compared to what He will use to work out His will and His plan.

We feel like we are between a rock and a hard place. At the end of our plan. At the end of our resources.

The Patient One and I walk out five years of infertility pain. Excruciating void. Deep pain. But God…. I love the but God parts and the but God stories. He leads us through the beautiful path of adoption. We aren’t between a rock and a hard place. We are nestled in his arms in a very soft place of life and love. A gift of filling the void with life through receiving life released from one mothers arms to another mothers love.

Any plans or tools I have for building my family, pale in comparison. Limp, wet, broken. His is teeming with life and love. Always. Every time.

My furry children and I come off this God gifted beach and sweet soothing words greet. The precious souls who watched the ripping of arm in socket speak words of healing. The are you okays and we were so worried and we hoped you weren’t hurt soothe. That empathetic love that we hold on to from others. Someone saw and someone cared. Doesn’t that always soothe like aloe after the burn—when concern rolls off lips.

We feel loved and cared for and full of salt and sea.

We wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

Joy Hunt – Part 2 {And An Apology}

Sharing the beauty from the Joy Hunt which included a search for color and bright spots in the grays.

And apologizing for the technical glitches for what was a double post for some folks.

Wishing His Grace, His Peace, and His Joy,

wynnegraceappears

A Joy Hunt

New post on wynnegraceappears

A Joy Hunt

by wynnegraceappears


I’m whistling, laughing, and jumping for joy; I’m singing your song, High God”
Psalm 9:2

You made me so happy God. I saw your work and I shouted for joy.”
Psalm 92:4

I didn’t capture the love gifts of The Patient One. With my camera. But I did with the heart. The clean house, cut camelias, trip to the store, folded laundry and dinner prepared. My heart records.

I didn’t capture the good night hug from middle son. But my heart recorded the trip to my bedside and the hug, the sweet embrace and the I love you.

There are no photos of the oldest man/child saying I love you. I’ll call you later momma.

This is all enough. More than enough. Much much more than enough to push out pain and let in Joy. News of a hurting one close to me bears down with stinging nettles. I want to bottle my Joy and deliver it to her door. The hurting one is not one. There are many in my world. Multiples.

Joy is the serious business of heaven”
C.S. lewis

And I have had serious worker bees in the Joy business minister to me time and time again. Those ministering angels who called and hugged and prayed on the days the black shadows robbed Joy.

There were those who spoke a word of encouragement when pain pressed in, numbing Joy.

Today their pain moves me to prayer. And to capture Joy, hold it in my hand and deliver it to theirs.

Hunting for Joy is a joy.

Joy IS serious business. It brings serious change to the heart of the hurting.

Praying for Joy in your day and released Joy into your world.

wynnegraceappears | February 27, 2012 at 3:39 pm | Tags: Joy | Categories: Joy | URL: http://wp.me/p2bYsv-oP

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