Unexpected Grace
Every beat of my heart pumps the desperate plea of escapism through my blood. And every vein carrying the blood through my body just presses back toward home. The need to escape and the burning homesickness flowing firmly together. Not gently, but like a raging river. Coursing on to battle.
The sun rises unexpectedly in my rear view mirror. A ball of flame, glowing red hot and orange, sitting there as though it’s normal for fireballs to sit there, in between sky scrapers, as wide as each of them and a million times more beautiful than either. The imposing architecture of these majestic structures reduced to objects that merely frame the only object around that’s suddenly worthy of any admiration; their stunning, mirrored glass paling in comparison to this thing from outer space, making it’s own light (with no need for mirrors to reflect some other light), invading our world with a magnificent display of power each and every morning.
My sixteen year old daughter leans over unexpectedly during church, puts her arm around my neck and kisses my cheek affectionately.
My priest gives me an unexpected birthday blessing at the communion rail, after placing the body of Christ in my hand, waiting to be consumed. “Watch over thy child, O Lord, as her days increase; bless and guide her wherever she may be. Strengthen her when she stands; comfort her when discouraged or sorrowful; raise her up if she fall; and in her heart may thy peace which passeth understanding abide all the days of her life; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.” Then he makes the sign of the cross, firmly upon my forehead. And I know that I am covered. I am covered, I am loved and I am filled as I eat the bread and am nourished and drink His precious blood and am enveloped in His grace.
Sometimes I cry so hard I pop blood vessels in my eye. Sometimes that happens on my birthday. Sometimes it can take a week or longer for the bright, red, bloody eye to go back to it’s normal white. So I remember the blood that covers me and I try not to care that people cringe when they look me in the eye. Here I am in all my glory, paling in comparison to the glory I reflect.
I have so very much to be thankful for.
Every beat of my heart longs for tenderness. And every vein in my body courses firmly on.
Leslie,
When I look at you, I see a mature woman of the Lord, a successful mother, loving wife … I see all those things that I aspire to be. But when I read your blog, in all it’s honesty and the truth of your struggles in this life … I am encouraged by your journey. I am encouraged at seeing the river of emotion the lies beneath your beautiful, calm face. In a selfish way, I breath a sigh of relief to see the struggle in someone else who seems so much further along on life. I can so identify.
Ps. I hope that doesn’t sound as though I respect you any less for seeing your struggle. On the contrary, I can only respect you more.
Thank you for your kind, thoughtful words, Mandi. It means more than I can say. Sometimes I wish the river would just calm down for a moment. Or a few hours, at least. I wish you peace in your own journey as we struggle on together.