Guest Post: Small Grace

I’m opening the doors wide today and invited Alia Joy to come, pull up a chair and share a warm cuppa with us today.  I am beyond thrilled to have her here.  I remember the first time I read Alia Joy’s blog.  Each word was like coming home, like walking up a long laneway after a weary and exhausting journey.  The verandah is wide, the wicker furniture waiting, won’t you join us…
I hope to God in 10 years I disagree with some of my blog. Anyone who knows me, knows that I don’t love being wrong. So why would I want to be wrong now? Simple. If in 10 years I agree with everything I’ve said at 34 years of age, that will mean I’ve learned nothing, grown little, and have closed my mind and heart to being pliable.

If I had a blog in my twenties, and thank God I didn’t because I’ve read those journals and I would be doing a giant face palm right about now with all the things I was absolutely sure of, I would have to go back and amend a ton of what I wrote. 

But there’s something I love about that. 

Because we are never static. We grow and stretch and break and turn directions and sway and it’s all part of the path. The idea of a neutral soul is antithetical to everything that makes a soul soul-worthy in that it is fluid. 

As bloggers we are living our lives online at least in part. But everyone makes discoveries and proclamations and tells stories with conclusions and the perspectives they have on that particular day. We are all in process. 

At a recent gathering of fluid souls, writers, friends, and poets, we talked about the nature of this great beast: the internet. The instrument we all play with varying harmony. The power of words and story and the tremendous impact it can have on healing and wholeness, fostering community, engaging social issues, opening eyes and hearts and minds to truth. 

But it has a dark underbelly of intimidation and side slander, quick words tossed out carelessly, soundbites out of context, rapid fire soapboxes assembled by which rants can be proclaimed before a watching world that just can’t seem to understand why Christians are fighting each other yet again. 

And it’s all a bit exhausting at times. To wonder if the clamor of it all is worth speaking into. Is there a place for a small voice to be used? For words spoken that could very well be proved wrong by life experiences and perspective in 10 years time. 

And then there’s the depression. The silent guest at the corner of my life, the fear of it encroaching into my day to day and smothering everything until I am gasping for clean air and fresh lungs and the breath of life to fill me back up. And I want to call it quits so often. I want to shut it all down and close my laptop and walk away. But for the grace of God. 

Because I don’t doubt that He’s called me. I really don’t anymore, even when I find myself in the midst of Goliaths and Kings, rubbing my words in my palm like a pebble, I know in God’s hands even this small offering is mighty.  And I’ve seen these words, often ones I don’t even remember writing or thinking of pour out and fill people up and I’m in awe. You guys, really, just floored at His goodness. His faithfulness to me and to all those who read and share bits of their lives with me, bringing healing to each other as we mourn and rejoice and lift each other back up to God. 

And it’s in this community that I found Tonya or more aptly she found me. And there are others. You know who you are. The ones whose souls are tired of the infighting and the opinions. The ones who want to be a part of something greater, more glorious, less about us and our words and more about Him and His will. And I’ve seen it with my own eyes, the gathering of writer warriors, the ones who are shaking the very foundation of the internet with truth, seeping into every outlet and proclaiming life everlasting and abundant. 

And it’s small grace for each word, small grace for each step, small grace for each obedience to show up and trust that your pebble worn smooth by the experiences in your life is worth throwing out there. 
 
Alia Joy is a cynical idealist, homeschool mama to three little ‘uns, wife to Josh, book wormy, coffee dependent, grace saved, writer of random musings and broken stories, collector of words, attempter of all things crafter, lover of mustard yellow, turquoise, Africa, and missions.  She lives in Central Oregon and loves to visit big cities because there are no decent Indian, Moroccan, or Vietnamese restaurants close by.  Maker-upper of words. Disliker of awkward introductions and writing in the third person.
 
Alia Joy writes at Narrow Paths to Higher Places
 
 

8 Comments

  1. Loved this post. Sometimes I wonder why I’m doing it…but somehow I keep at it. Thanks for sharing at Tonya’s today!

  2. LOVE love love this… and love that two of my favorite people are together in one place! I can not WAIT until it happens inrl!

  3. Well Alia, you have done it again! I was just going to throw in the towel and skip the whole thing, I wanted to have coffee to talk about “this”, exactly “this”. Guess, He had other ideas- thanks for being his vessel, yet again!

  4. oh, i’m linking arms and raising hands and bowing heads with you, dear. not just for the worship that is connection with God, but for the worship that flows when we feel around the edges of unity in our palms.

    like you, i’ve been (and i am) so close to shutting this ‘instrument’ out of my life. and if it weren’t for those small moments of miraculous solidarity … i just might. this sustains me for yet another day. thank you. love to you. always.

  5. ” in God’s hands even this small offering is mighty.” I love this reminder and I needed it so much this evening. Thank you for sharing.

  6. Absolutely love this. Standing ovation! You know, I do network some, because of concrete words, and because I’m following my dream, and yet, I’m so where you are– weary and tired. Not sure what it means for me but I’m definitely not giving up. I have to take a week off sometimes, which is what I’m about to do. Thank you for writing do honest, Alia.

  7. I needed this today. Thank you.

  8. Woohooo! Absolutely, yes, friend. Grateful to join with you here — both of you, all of those who are casting pebbles and sharing grace hope, right from pain and struggle’s middle.

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