grace
Waves of falling rain pounce firmly on the tin roof giving birth to a calming rhythmic sound. A random crackle from the cast iron stove is a reminder of the warmth being generated from within. Light is slowly invading the overcast dawn illuminating the replenishing shower over the glistening pond. Morning has come and with it the opportunity for discovering new possibilities within God’s gift of grace. As this day unfolds so do the possible challenges that lie ahead. None will be greater, however, than the call to gratitude for each step taken and each breath drawn. As this day moves further from its dawn, the recollection of its peaceful arrival provides substance to whatever will be served on today’s plate. May your day unfold in gratitude and grace as you step into its warm embrace.
The sun shines brightly upon the frozen ground as another day unfolds. Birds flutter from place to place finding sustainable morsels, oblivious to the deep chill. Inside, pets and people alike savor the fragrance of the roasting turkey as they gather together around the warmth of the old cast iron stove. Today is a day of thanksgiving as we pause to remember the gifts of life and love that has been afforded us. The greatest of these gifts is God’s love presented to us in the forms of grace and mercy. The Maker’s mercy saves us from the consequences of our self-centeredness that are truly deserved while His grace covers us with gifts that could never be earned. Living in the place of grace and mercy means making our home in thanksgiving!
In the quiet of the early morning before the bustle of the day commenced, I sat quietly in the consuming arms of peace that enfolded me like a blanket of warmth. Gone were the fits of anger from the day before and gone was the dread of physical challenges and the nag of pains. Though the pesky visitors might return, they were quiet and still at that moment. The lyrics of a hymn recently sung by the church choir descended upon my thoughts and I sank into the arms of comfort as I recalled the words. “When peace like a river attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll, whatever my lot thou hast taught me to (know) say, it is well, it is well, with my soul.” The hymn by Horatio Spafford was penned after having lost all his wealth in the Chicago fire of 1871, then having lost all four daughters in a shipwreck on the Atlantic a short while later. These words “came to him” as he later sailed past the very spot of the tragic accident that took the lives of his beloved daughters. I do not in any way equate my loss of nimbleness to the loss of life of a loved child. I believe I would endure whatever personal pain and torment tossed my way if it meant a safe and healthy life for my children. What all of us share at one time or another is the sense of loss and its attendant grief. What all may also share is the attendant “peace that passes all understanding,” that waits to be greeted at the door of grace. Today, I am grateful for hearing the knock and for flinging the door wide to that embrace of peace.
Hard work, planning and preparation had been the cornerstone of the move from the corporate world to private consulting and then the call to Pastor. The house was in order. Suddenly, without a hint of warning, the thief burst through the thoughtfully planned barrier. Not only did he steal flexibility and nimbleness, he has made his home in this place called me. This unintentional host is not at all happy at the intruder’s presence. Today he seems to be reminding me of his presence at every turn. I detest his assertions and want to throw heartfelt curses his way for his challenging my buttoning ability and for the agony of walking he has unloaded in this unintentional host. My anger flared this morning at this thief and I wanted to pound him squarely out of my life. Then, as suddenly as my anger flared, my rational self whispered; “if you give in to the anger, the thief wins by robbing you of peace.” The scripture from 1 Thessalonians 5 that instructs us to “give thanks in all things” came to mind. I have not yet been able to truly give thanks for PD (I’m not sure I need to do so) and its brash interruption of my agenda, but I have grown to be thankful for opportunities to be more empathic, to grow in patience, and for still having a mind that embraces a semblance of rational promptings. Anger is a part of the grieving process and I experience its presence periodically. It is grace that brings me back to the place of thankfulness that God’s presence is sufficient. Living in this place of grace far outweighs the paltry crop of anger that tries to camp out just beside the fire of faith.
The daylight is just beginning its assent from beyond the distant eastern hill. The puppy is fed and has had her morning romp through the dew covered yard. She has settled down at the foot of my chair for her first nap of the day. In the stillness of this hour I reflect on the peace that is God’s grace in these moments. The day and activities that will come along with it at this moment seem incidental to the peaceful communion with the Creator. These are the moments that sustain; that underpin the building of any agenda. Anticipation and mental preparation aside, the time of being cloaked in God’s presence provides the only sustainable fuel for the day ahead. No matter the challenges or conquests yet to come, I am grateful for the abiding love that comes from the God of grace. I am reminded that He can be no other than the love personified through His own self-sacrifice for each of us. Fueled with the wonder of His presence and propelled by the goodness of His consuming grace, the day ahead can now be navigated with a compass divinely not mine.
The energy of the city was palpable as people strolled to their desired destinations that afternoon in London. An afternoon free from lectures in the course I was taking offered the opportunity for a leisurely stroll past the British Museum to a theatre whose marquee gave evidence of a matinee performance of Les Miserable. I had read Hugo’s book in high school and was familiar with the story, so I was eager to see the stage adaptation. From the opening song to the triumphant closing, I was vicariously transported to another time and place. On several occasions the scenes and music of grace and deliverance ignited uncontrollable waves of emotion as tears flowed down my face. I caught out of one eye a lady sitting two seats away who seemed taken by my emotional reaction to the theatrical events unfolding. Aware that I was being observed, I self-consciously attempted to rein in the sensitivity to the music and drama being played out before me. I have seen the musical several times since and have each time experienced the deep emotional reaction to the musical portrayal of acts of grace that offer freedom to the one being granted. I am less self-conscious these days of the way I emotionally react to life events, movies or plays. There is a degree of freedom that comes in accepting one’s emotional bent and giving oneself permission to live through the expression that embraces such an integral part of who one is. Whether the genesis of one’s emotion rests in illness, disability, loss, the receipt and or giving of grace, or moments of great joy, the acknowledgement and expression of that emotion becomes a part of living a healthy life. That moment does not become one’s life, but one’s life is enriched by living through that moment! Every moment is a gift.