Gifts and Graces

Alysia Miller
May 4
3 min read

May 2026 Issue No. 16

HONEST LIFE | SLOW GROWTH | DEEPLY ROOTED

Ohio River Landscape, 1947, by Harlan Hubbard. Oil on masonite, 45.25” x 94” Commissioned by Mt. Byrd Christian Church, Milton, KY

WELCOME

Welcome to Invitations. My deep hope is that this monthly newsletter will serve as an invitation to consider ideas, practices, and images that will enrich your life. I hope you’ll find fresh perspectives on living a honest, spiritual life, deepening connections between God and others, and permission to grow slowly.

What does it look like for me to live loved?

An artist, a community, and offering gifts.

In 1947, artist Harlan Hubbard (1900-1988) was commissioned by a rural Kentucky church to paint a baptismal scene (see above) for the church's anniversary coming up. Hubbard and his wife Anna became a part of the small community, self-sufficient in every way, except for the ways they depended on their community and the ways their community depended on them. Even while not officially a part of the church, the church was witness to Hubbard's gift of painting--but perhaps more importantly, the gift of a vision of what is truly sacred. Read the story HERE.

Words to consider.

From Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking, 1973

"A good sleep is grace and so are good dreams. Most tears are grace. The smell of rain is grace. Somebody loving you is grace. Loving somebody is grace. Have you ever tried to love somebody? A crucial eccentricity of the Christian faith is the assertion that people are saved by grace. […] The grace of God means something like: Here is your life. You might never have been, but you are because the party wouldn't have been complete without you. Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid. I am with you. Nothing can ever separate us. It's for you I created the universe. I love you. There's only one catch. Like any other gift, the gift of grace can be yours only if you'll reach out and take it. Maybe being able to reach out and take it is a gift too."

Shaping sentences.

I got this idea from a Substack post from Trevor Hudson: Five Sentences that have Shaped my Life. It is a worthwhile read, and I think a worthwhile question to ask: What words have shaped your life? Words are powerful. They shape imaginations, which in turn shapes lives. We all can think of times when this has happened, for better, or worse.

On the encouraging side, these words are gifts we give to each other--gifts that pop up unexpectantly, kind of like grace. Here are mine:

"What is mine to do?" I first heard this question posed by Suzanne Stabile, enneagram expert. This is somewhat of a recent addition to my repertoire but has served me well in giving me pause to my sometimes knee jerk reactions.
"People do that, you're a people, you can do that." This was a common phrase from my dad growing up. It was an encouragement to try things ourselves, but also serves as a reminder for me to see the people who contribute in all kinds of ways--unexpected, cool, niche, or even invisible.
"Feedback is like a jacket, try it on, wear it around, see if it fits. If it doesn't, take it off." Not all feedback needs to be incorporated into my life, but neither does it need to be discarded immediately. Feedback is less scary if I get to decide what to do with it.
"Don't put God in a box." I'll confess, I rolled my eyes when my friend told me this. What kind of nerve did he have to put this wisdom out in the world at the ripe old age of 17? And yet, here it is, still popping up in my head when my cynicism wants to have the final say or when I find myself getting hung up on lines in the sand.
"But faith is not necessarily, or not soon, a resting place. Faith puts you out on a wide river in a boat, in the fog, in the dark." --Wendell Berry

What are your sentences? Who gifted you these words?

HOPE

Pondering art is formative. It shapes our imaginations which in turn shape what we believe is possible and good.

Do you see hope in this image? Here's how the artist described:

Hope sitting on a globe, with

bandaged eyes playing on a lyre which

has all the strings broken but one out

of which poor little tinkle she is trying

to get all the music possible, listening

with all her might to the little sound—

do you like the idea?

— George Frederic Watts in a

letter to his friend Madeline

Wyndham, December 1885