Grace.

Up until a few years ago, I would have my new "word of the year" all picked out by New Year's Eve. Ready to roll right into it when the clock struck midnight, signaling yet another fresh year - a blank slate, if you will - to do more, be better, see the good, and grow as a result.

Too often, my word turned out to be not much more effective than my New Year's resolutions. For a while, it stayed on my mind and, for a while, I diligently pursued the goal.

Then Life would intervene and I would go off-road, but with every intention to swing back onto course just as soon as everything leveled out. The funny thing about Life though is that our idea of "leveling" isn't always how it happens. In fact, almost never.

At some point there came a NYE when I didn't have a word picked out. I found that this "unplanned" year was not all that different in nature from the ones where I had meticulously plotted how my word would aid my journey from January through December; how I was practically destined to accomplish all the goals I set my mind too simply because I had the mind set to do so. Yet, (there's that word again:) as the days turned into weeks, and then the weeks into months - with still no word - I realized the power must not lie there because I still experienced the very same ebb and flow of Life that I always had.

Plenty of "ups," complete with achievements, meeting goals, and getting that one overlooked closet cleaned out, and then followed by a fair amount of sub-par performances, LOTS of dropped balls, and a closet once again in need of a cleaning after one futile attempt to locate a missing sweater.

So when the word "grace" began to play around in my mind this past summer, I didn't recognize it for what it was for the longest. I don't know if you are like me or not, but I tend to talk to myself; no, not necessarily out loud (although that HAS happened:) but definitely in my head. I found the stresses of this past summer were really working on me, and not in a good way.

Frustration, bitterness, disappointment - anger even, were just a few of the emotions that fought for top billing in my heart. My soul - usually so easily inspired and uplifted - felt bogged with the weight of the circumstances surrounding me. While the issues weren't directly related TO me or mine, they WERE very close. Too close to ignore. Too close to pretend they weren't happening.

I caught myself more than once saying, "Grant them grace." Even though it was a mere thought, it was a reminder for me to take a minute, breathe deeply, and allow the people around me to make mistakes without judgement. To realize that everybody is doing the very best they can, and that sometimes even the "best" just isn't going to be enough. Blame isn't going to do anyone any good. Yet Grace allows for a break, for a realization that - though NOW this person or this situation isn't as it should be - who is to say that they (or it) will not rise to the occasion tomorrow, or next week, or even next year or the years to come?

In late July, after this had been going on for quite a few weeks, I made the decision to leave the English classroom, and come back closer to home, to where I am needed most. The coincidence of being invited to teach culinary within my old district was a surprise and something that could only be a "God-thing." To combine what Mike and I do on the daily - hospitality - with my passion (teaching) seemed almost too good to be true. While I knew there would be a learning curve, I have to admit that I approached the new school year full of confidence and very few fears or trepidations.

The first week went swimmingly.

Then began The Learning Curve, SO much steeper and hillier than I had ever imagined. Transitioning my "home cook" experience into that of a chef trainer in an industrial kitchen, learning the ins and outs (re: do's and don't's) of PO's, activity funds, and requisitions, planning menus for board meetings, alumni luncheons, and football games, all the while teaching four classes I had never taught before turned out to be more than my so-called confidence was prepared for!

Last weekend, as I was driving alone, I mulled it all over in my head. Realistic Staci began to lecture Perfectionist Staci and - in the course of their conversation - I heard myself say out loud, "Give yourself some grace."

Give yourself some grace.

There was that five-letter word again. G-R-A-C-E. So simple, yet so very full of meaning. Life-changing, really. It was time for me to take a minute, breathe deeply, and allow myself to make mistakes without judgement. To realize that I am doing the very best that I can and that, even so, on some days my best just won't be quite enough.

And that is okay.

Fast forward to yesterday's staff meeting, where our amazing principal held up a piece of paper with a single word written on it. "Take some time and think about what YOUR word for this year will be." He challenged us to join the student body, who are all doing this as well, and put our word down on paper, decorate it, and let it join all the others on the cafeteria wall.

I didn't have to think about it.

I knew my word instantly.

It wasn't my word at New Year's.

Instead, just like Life and just like God, the giver of this Life, it raised its voice and spoke truth to me at just the right time.

Grace.

"Life is measured in love and positive contributions and moments of grace." - Carly Fiorina

Courage for the middle places.

Sometimes Faith's ugly sister, Fear, appears and threatens to take over the scene. While I would never exaggerate my visibility or recognition, I still find myself afraid to be more fully seen. Which - if it weren't so dead gum scary - it would almost be funny. I teach high schoolers - who can see right through you most days, I run a business that thrives on hospitality {the B&B} and love {the wedding venue}, and I'm trying to grow a little boutique that requires I put my face and my name "out there."

The possibilities of failure, rejection, etc. get poured into this fear-cocktail. And while I can honestly say I originally hit these challenges with courage head on, as the battles in other areas of my life persist, I’ve become bone-weary in the fight.

What I've discovered lately is that it's not my own issues that have hijacked my life; it's that I've allowed the needs and hurts of others to rob me of my confidence. I've shouldered more than I was meant to; taken on the burdens of others when they were never mine to bear.

As is the case with much in life, problems don’t disappear overnight. More often than not, we don’t get over them. We move through them.  The lyrics of one of my favorite songs right now say, 

"Escape is a waste of time; ain't no use in hiding - 

you know the best way over is through. 

So if it matters, let it matter.

If your heart 's aching let it ache.

Catch those pieces as they scatter;

know your hurt is not in vain."

And in this middle place of working through something—in the space between moving courageously and waiting for something to change—you can lose your gumption. Hope gets buried beneath 50 layers of defeated thinking, and you’re sure you’re making all the wrong moves.

I’ve been there, and as I read through Exodus 14, I see Moses and the Israelites have been there too. In this passage of Scripture, Pharaoh had just freed them from captivity, and the Lord then leads Moses and His people onward and away from Egypt. But sometime shortly thereafter, Pharaoh changed his mind and goes after God’s people. As the Israelites camped near the Red Sea, all of Pharaoh’s army barreled down on them. When the Israelites saw them approaching, they were full of fear and began questioning every move that brought them there. Moses spoke up and said,

“Fear not, stand firm…The Lord will fight for you.” Exodus 14:13-14

The waters of the Red Sea were zipped up so that the Israelites could cross. Once they reached the other side unharmed, He brought the waters back together again over the entire Egyptian army.

The Israelites were scared, yes, but they leaned into that promise: The Lord will fight for you.

And they moved forward.

So I do what I know to do. Keep on keepin’ on. You’ve got this.

The power of YET.

The last 3 months...twelve weeks...84 days...

...have been some of the most challenging, frustrating, creative, joyful, disappointing, humbling months, weeks, days EVER. How so many emotions can vie for first place at the same exact time within the human heart is almost inexplicable.

And yet...here is where I have been.

The pieces of what I’m trying to force together sit in a hazy distance or under layers of cobwebs. I can’t get close enough to make out the picture it’s supposed to be, or I can’t excavate the tender parts that pull it all together. I want to, but I can’t.

On the other hand, every so often - even if only fleeting - the fog lifts and I’m able to see how the pieces fit together. Or how I want them to fit. I see the vision, and I do the work to make what wants to be become what is.

These last several months I’ve had so much vision and so much interest to work on brand new things. Yet my heart and talents have been so needed elsewhere. So instead I collected tidbits here and there, penciling them into the margins of my schedule and life. But in several barely-there whispers, God began to imprint on my heart that now was not the right time to do anything else with it.

Yet.

Someone advised: “Ya know, sometimes the Lord simply suggests things rather than tells you you should or shouldn’t do it.”

Yes. That was it exactly. I could see and feel how the Lord suggested I set other things that I deemed important in the moment aside for the time being. 

I was sad, disappointed and if I’m being honest, downright scared about that. I mean, what if these things ended up leaving me altogether? I'm fifty now, for crying out loud. What if I lose the energy for what it is I want? What if I run out of time and I don't complete every dream, every vision I can so clearly see today? What if? What if? What if?

When I knew beyond a doubt that waiting was what I needed to do, I cried my eyes out. Waiting is so hard. 

This time was by far the hardest. After all, with all of the challenges and changes, surprises and shocks that my home and family had been hit with in the past months, this spark of inspiration wasn't content to lay low or dormant. It had taken root on the inside of me, and I was ready  - desperate - to produce it on the outside. I had time and motivation to work on it as well as the passion and inspiration.

Yet I wasn’t supposed to.

Sometimes I assume the season of today is the season of forever. When this happens, urgency and panic want to be my companions. The best thing I can do is realize that my right now no is likely not a forever no but a temporary not yet.

It's frustrating when you can’t make what you want to be become what is, especially it makes you feel good when all else around you seems to be crumbling. But even as I think about what it is I want to create or do, God is most concerned about the heart of one He created: Me. 

You.

Glorious, capable you. If like me you sense this undeniable nudge to wait on something, have courage. Have courage to move through this season with a relaxed sense of anticipation for what God’s doing in you and through you. 

Today's not yet just means He's still doing a work. When the time comes, it will be bigger, better, sweeter, and more joyous because it was done in His time. Embrace it.

Embrace the not yets in your life.