This morning, all I can think about is this old nursery rhyme I used to read to Crusader: “Wee Willie Winkie runs through the town, Upstairs and downstairs in his nightgown, Tapping at the window and crying through the lock, Are all the children in their bed, for now it’s eight o’clock?”

Or something t’other, as my character, Granny B, might say.

Well, that poem about sums up my week thus far. Yesterday, I was running upstairs and downstairs, through the town, and checking on little people late into the night. Now I’ll spend the day in my nightgown, or something equally comfy.

I have moaned and groaned over this weakness, frittering away valuable time, fretting over the whys and hows. But not today. Today, I’m choosing to see this day in bed, on the sofa, on my chaise, or in my seat in front of the fireplace as an opportunity, a gift forced upon me by the God Who knows my need.

Really, Robin? You need weakness, achiness, and pain? I suppose so, at least today. It means I can’t run around cleaning, washing, instructing, and hustling, carrying out that whole upstairs-downstairs routine of life. The only part of me that’ll make it up or down today is my voice, yelling, “Can someone bring me my charger?” and “Play with TD!” Yesterday, I reached into the barrel and scooped out the grace I needed to do all that, plus get my party on with my little girlies to boot. It was enough.

Today, I scooped out my daily grace using that same measure, but it served a different purpose: I get to write a post, read, cuddle a little person, and serve Him in another way. No temporary fixes for an eternal God. Again, it is enough.

Yes, I could whine and wonder, but I won’t. At least not at this moment—don’t worry, I have plenty saved up. Instead, I’ll praise Him for His strength in my weakness and thank Him for His grace that supplies my need. (2 Corinthians 12:8-10) That grace and strength looks like the little people doing their schoolwork without bickering and carrying on, tastes like the sausage-and-cheese English muffin sweet Hubby made me for breakfast, and sounds like the tapping of my fingers on my laptop. It feels like that supernatural peace that helps me look on this as a slowdown and not a shutdown so I don’t have a meltdown.

What unusual measure of grace is God pouring into your own life today? What is He mercifully saving you from—besides yourself—while gracefully providing all you need?

But to each one of us grace was given according to the measure of Christ’s gift.” Ephesians 4:7

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