all is grace.

"I remember when you were a junior in high school and you said you didn't want to grow up.  And now, you're a junior in college and growing up, and you're doing it beautifully!  I'm so proud of you," she told me.

Yesterday, I unexpectedly ran into one of my favorite people ever - LeighAnne Clifton.  Mrs. LeighAnne was one of my high school Sunday school teachers.  She has a big, big role in the way that I know Jesus and the way that I love Jesus.  I didn't realize just how much she meant to me until I saw her yesterday.

I don't think I could explain well enough how much I needed to, without knowingly, see that woman and to hear those words.  How much I needed to hear that I'm doing something right.

I believe in grace.  My heart beats for grace.  I couldn't obsess over Jesus' grace on our behalf much more than I already do.  But, as I've said before, I struggle finding grace for myself.

If you know me, you know that home is hard for me.  It's no one's fault.  It's just that home makes me think and home makes me process and Brenna @/when Home as a senior in high school looks vastly different than Brenna @/when Home as a junior in college.  The Lord has radically changed my heart, the things it beats for, the people it adores, and the way it processes.  Because of how different I am, simply put, home is hard.

Because of that, this past weekend was no different.  I was irritable and annoyed and frustrated (mainly with myself) and stubborn and graceless.  I was in an ill mood and I didn't really care who it affected.

Let me tell you, growing up is hard.  Like, by far, the hardest thing I've ever done.  That sounds sort of silly because everyone does it, but really.  I remember when I was a junior in high school and I said that I was scared to grow up.  Looking back, I think that was rightfully said.

So to hear that I'm supposedly doing it "beautifully" wrecked me.  It was as if Jesus himself was looking upon me and reminding me that there's grace for me.  That there's grace when you go home and fight with mom, your sister, AND your brother.  There's grace when you eat too much dessert.  There's grace when you feel inadequate and there's grace when you think you're doing just fine on your own.  There's grace when you let the truth that HE is already there slip from memory.  There's grace when you forget, over and over, to do a simple task.  There's grace when you spend too much money shopping.  There's grace when you don't see how things could be fixed.  There's grace when I'm not the friend, daughter, sister, RA, business owner, or student that I should/want to be.  There's abundant grace.  Over and over and over and over, there's grace.

And there's grace when I feel like I'm doing this whole "growing up" thing 100 shades of wrong.  There's grace when I'm scared to become an adult.

It's like I'm growing up right before my eyes, like I'm just watching it happen from a spectator's view.  And I hate it and I love it.  I cling to the things that are comfortable, yet I long for the best that is yet to come.

For whatever reason, I was dreading the drive back to Anderson today- vastly different than the way I usually am excited for it.  But today, my body, or really my heart, didn't feel too up to it.  I think that was because I feel the days are just passing as I near graduation and I can't hold them tightly enough.

I thought a lot.  I thought a lot about the way I've grown up and the space I've allowed myself.  I'm over and over and over and over again thankful that Jesus gives grace.

I thought about grace and how it finds me.  How it seeks me and comes to me.  How it's enough and how it overflowingly covers.  How it's there when I have to make up words because there aren't any good enough.  How it's present and near and surrounding.  How it loves me.

As I prepare to end my 5th semester of college, I'm reminded that grace is before me.  That it goes with me into this next season.  That is has not forgotten me and it refuses to abandon me.  That all is grace.

I have a tattoo that says "by grace alone".  That was a good tattoo to get in the season that I got it in.  I was a new Christian that hit the harsh reality that nothing I did/ever had done earned me my salvation, but that it was His hand in it all.  That before I would even dream of knowing Him, His grace would hold me and find me.

But in this season, I'm surrounded by grace, it's inescapable.  It's poured out for me and for you and for them and for her and for him and for we and for us.  In this season, grace is choking me, because often times, I choose I don't find it for myself.  All is grace.

I ask that you would pray for me.  That you would pray for my resentment towards growing up, haha.  I need lots of contentment in the future and my anxiety is the 40 foot wall that doesn't allow for that.  I speak to my anxiety and I pray the wall would shake and fall, that I may expectantly look towards what it to come, rather than tightly grasp that which once was.  That I would take these days one-at-a-time, rather than seeing them as a scrapbook of memories in a book that I feel I never took the time to make.

I have this quote in my room that says, "I'm praying that Jesus will give me just enough strength each day to keep me from losing it, but not so much that I forget who that strength comes from."  That is me now.  Because I've made a little strength from Him a lot of strength of my own and I've watched my head roll away on other days.

But there's grace for all the days.

Heart surrendered, onward we go.