The Grace of God

Sometimes I come to my senses and I am floored by the grace you give. I realize that the empty place I feel is caused, not by a lack in what you offer, but by my own closedness. I am like a rubber ball floating in the sea, dry on the inside because I have shut myself off for fear of drowning. But oh, to drown in your love God. To open my mouth and drink deep, to be filled to the bottom of my lungs and have my blood carry it to all extremes.

To think that the goodness I have seen is but a speck of what you have truly done for me. When we finally stand face to face, how will I keep from crumbling at the realization of all the joy I have forgone in my hardness?

There is enough joy in one warm summer’s evening to fill the hearts of all the world. I dream of sitting quietly by a river, alone or with a friend, reading or singing or thinking, as day turns to dusk, there’s a fire crackling and maybe some food… What is it that’s in us that can take all this goodness and turn it into ugliness, hate and darkness? What is in the heart of man?

How can I become a man who is moved by everything and swayed by nothing? To feel as deeply as I can stand, and still stand firm and do what is right?

There was an older black man at Woody’s last weekend. He ordered a croissant with cream cheese and I judged his ragged exterior. He brought his food out to his truck where he and his wife?girlfriend?friend? shared it. The truck was old and looked lived-in. I thought it was nice. It’s nice that even though life is hard, they had each other to share it with.

I was also moved by a young boy staring wide-eyed/mouthed at the aquatic creatures at the pet store a few doors down.

I’ve been somewhat emotional this past week.

TK said that if you are going to graft a branch to a tree, the only way to do it is to gash the tree. You must wound the tree and only to the extent and depth that you wound it, and only at the place where you injure it, will the branch become a part of the greater organism. The deeper the cut the deeper the bond. Oh Lord, how are we to understand this beautiful mystery? I can’t even stick to a budget, how can I understand your Grace for me?

And yet, as a testament to how great your grace is, I sometimes can and do. I don’t know it like I know letters and¬†arithmetic, but I know. I know it in silence and I know it in confusion. I somehow know it even better in my own darkness, when I am overcome by it. I have known your mercy this very week. I know you have written a song for each and every one of us, Lord. Please help me to sing mine as best I can.

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~ by justinhong on March 14, 2012.

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