Surprising Grace

The Grace of God offers freedom and salvation, but there are also times when God's Grace will surprise us.

Allison and I have had Black-Eyed Susans in our front flower beds for as long as we have been married. By transplanting plants from one flower bed to another or from one home to another, we are reminded of where we have been and where we are establishing new roots.

The process of digging up a portion of the plant, protecting the roots ever so carefully, and then with urgency replanting the plant as soon as we arrived at our new home was a familiar routine. Frankly, this process was a nice distraction from movers, boxes, and the following mess.

We moved two weeks ago. While the three-mile move was relatively easy, moving is always a pain. There is the packing and unpacking, the stress of movers, and the inevitable frustrations that spouses find with one another and their children. The result of moving is always exciting, but getting there (even three miles away) is not fun.

We have done our best over the past two weeks to make our new parsonage (that is, church talk for a pastor’s house) a home. Our children’s bedrooms are always the priority, followed by the kitchen, family areas, etc. Yesterday, as I dropped Nora off at day camp, she told me our new house does not feel like her home. This was a punch to the gut because Allison and I moved mountains to make the house our home as quickly as possible (not to mention spending more than we should).

I asked Nora how we could make our new house feel more like her home.

“Our family picture isn’t on the wall.”

Our family portrait has hung over the fireplace as far as Nora can remember. Taken a year or so after she was born, this portrait has been a constant reminder through pandemic, illness, school changes, and more that while the world is constantly changing, our family is a constant. “We have each others’ backs,” as Nora says.

A picture on the wall makes a house a home for our five year-old-daughter.

As I was walking the dog this morning, I noticed something outside the gate to our backyard.

A single Black-Eyed Susan, standing tall and proud.

I was home.

God’s Grace shows up in the most unexpected ways, sometimes surprising us with reminders of love and peace when we need it most.

Moves are tough.

Church moves are even more challenging as they require fast transitions, the establishment of relationships quickly, and the feelings that come with saying goodbye to a beloved pastor or community. To top that off, some expectations are never entirely met as quickly as all parties would prefer.

But then a single Black-Eyed Susan shows up at your back gate, and all you can do is look up and laugh.

Karl Barth wrote, “Laughter is the closest thing to the grace of God.”

I laugh, and Barth wrote this because laughter is generally based on surprise.

Surprise at the punchline of a joke.

Surprise when a friend pops around a corner and scares you.

Surprise when a single flower becomes a means of Grace.

Today, while Nora is at day camp Allison and I plan to hang the family portrait on the wall in a place of prominence. With a little bit of luck (and a whole lot of Grace), a five-year-old girl will laugh when she arrives home.