Tuesday, December 28, 2004
Grace walks into the room and now I recognize her. I rise, smiling, and step over to greet her.
That wasn't always so. For years Grace was a vague, wispy somebody who came and went because I didn't understand her. I didn't know how much I needed her, nor how much I'd neglected her ever since God sent her to me.
But one day I woke up, and there she stood at the end of my bed, wordlessly inviting me to rise. Then all day long she walked beside me, helping me to do every chore-- and because of her presence, the chores became sweet. I no longer dreaded them, but anticipated them because Grace would be there with me, smiling and helping me to do what I could never do alone.
I even learned to recognize when Grace wanted me to watch the news and when she didn't. As long as I could pray for those in trouble and stay 'up', I knew Grace sat beside me. But when all the disasters clung to me, making me feel like a disaster, I knew Grace had stepped away, but I'd stayed anyway.
Grace could be stern. When I would try to do things, even good things, which God had told me to release, Grace would shake her head and back away. And when I'd stubbornly persist in doing those good things anyway, because I thought I "should," Grace left the room. And there I'd be without Grace's strength or light. Instead, I'd be back to struggling, trying to force that good thing to work. Joy disappeared and there was no flow from an oil of peace. No, just struggle and obligation remained.
And finally, through the hallways of Time and Experience, I learned to recognize Grace. When she was beside me and when she wasn't. I discovered a good thing is no longer a good thing if Grace is not helping me with it. I learned I am in the wrong place if Grace is not there.
With Grace, I can do anything, and do it with peace and tranquility. Without her, Life is cruel.
And now when Grace walks into the room, I run up to her and we leave together, smiling smiles of courage, to change this weary world.