Today I went into Mom's apartment and saw that she was napping. There was a Post-it sized notepad of paper with a floral design laying beside her chair, and she'd covered several of the notes with script. The tiny pages required her to crimp her handwriting into a minuscule version of its usual size, and she wrote, "This pad of paper is pretty, but a little bit small. Unique!" She went on to describe her lunch menu, her cat's green eyes, and the beauty of her Christmas tree.
I rummaged through the stack of books and papers on the side table and found her spiral notebook. I placed it atop the pile so she would find it when she reached for her pen again, and as I returned to my part of the house I marveled at Mom's calm acceptance of the incongruities that she encounters so often through her day. I don't know where she found that little bitty pad of paper, but she was neither frustrated or angered by the lack of writing materials that would have better fit her needs. "Unique!" she wrote, and went about her day.
I pray for grace to accept the circumstances God has provided for us with childlike faith like my mom's.