One wonders. That is enough. A world of ideas, fed by experience, beauty, varied other generics. The light and shadow splayed on the blind as the breeze sways and leaves play. Can we look outside of ourselves, beyond the screen, away from inner thoughts, avoid pressing pressures, bring rigorous responsibility at one with joyful rest? What of insight without strain, friendship without losing principle, grace?
What of grace? I do not know. Rules and musts and shoulds. All the 'supposed to' things we think grace pushes away come rushing back when we say, "But you're 'supposed to' show grace."
What does grace mean? Giving as an attitude. Willing to overlook; to forgive; to suffer, not only with, but for.
Can we suffer for? Of course, or we never lived. Mothers suffer for and from their grace we live.
But grace is more than I know and I weep to know. There is little grace in my refusal to accept cheap bandy about this word. Yes, I want deep meaning -- because I desperately want meaning and I cannot know any such thing without depth. So I am lost -- that is, without grace, without goodness, without blessing.
In spite of the wonder, the stretch, the worry, the lack, I dare to believe God is real, that He is good, that He is grace.
"Come boldly to the throne of grace that you may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need." This is the whisper Elijah heard, the breath of God felt when we are in His presence.
Life is grace, all of it, and the answer to objections is, again, grace. All begins with God and will end well, with Him.
"Breath on me breath of God, fill me with life anew."
I receive His grace today, His very person. Not a commodity of enabling but God Himself who is grace. He gives, He whispers. His presence heals. I listen, feel, receive and find in Him new life.
Wondering, wandering, resting in a God of grace.
That is all.
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