Grace

"Grace, what have you done?" -Scandal of Grace, Zion, Hillsong United 2013

We sat silently in the parked car, rain pouring down heavily outside, making the sound of the wipers scraping back and forth on the wind-screen the only audible sound. There was strain and burden in our hearts as we battled between two loves. Tears stained our cheeks; we both knew we couldn't continue this way but were reluctant to voice our thoughts.

How could we pull away when so much had been done already? so many dreams and hopes had been spoken out loud and so many plans had been made. How could we pull away? The thick fog that hung above our heads was unrelenting, no matter how many times we tried to look around it, under it and sometimes through it, it remained. Nevertheless, there was a lot to be learned from it, lessons we took graciously, hoping it will fade away but it grew malignant, like a cancer progressing rapidly through our world.

Now I'm sitting here, miles away from that day, grappling for stability and looking for a place to cast my blame. It's fall outside, the leaves have turned golden-brown with bursts of red and green dotting the landscape. The trees are losing their leaves, baring their souls and revealing their true make-up. Perhaps like them, I too am being stripped away and bared. It is now that my essence is revealed, my anchor and my soul is being put on display for my eyes to see.

This is where I am learning about grace. It was the powerful agent that transported me from then to now and it has always been in the business of time traveling. From a parked car filled with anguish to a self-reflecting isolation. Grace has held my hand every step of the way. From that day I begged Him to take control and do what He wants because I could not do it. To today, begging Him to take control and continue to do what He wants because I can not do it.

Grace is teaching me reliance. When I kicked and screamed at the notion of surrendering, even when I had sworn my life over to my maker, even after I had sang about leading me to deep waters and carrying me to eternity, even after I had cried out for salvation and to be led completely, I still rebelled. Today I still rebel. Grace is the mother I hope to someday become, that even after my children have run and cursed at me, even after they have hated me they can still crawl to me, tears on their cheeks telling me how painful it all is, asking me to come and console them and I will come. I will come to offer myself without losing sight of the bigger plan.

Grace is teaching me to wait. It's reminding me of my only aim, bringing Acts 20:24 to mind, reminding me that this life is not mine. She is reminding me to look up and grab the glory moments, the ones where I'm reminded of love, a hope and a future. She sees me in this place of despair, the ups and downs and reaches out a hand, cradles me to herself and whispers stories of power and wisdom, telling me that I don't have to fear.

Even in my tiredness and discouragement, she tells me to take a new grip and to stand firm. When I fall apart for the uncertainty of the future she reminds me to trust, coaxing me to try it. Even a little bit. Telling me that it will turn out good, not bad, that it will all work out, Telling me it's a good thing to trust and not a bad thing. When I hope for one thing so much that I drive myself into depression, she tells me again to trust, to let go of my limited vision in exchange for a hope in a greater future.

Grace is sitting with me, passing the days with me, making each moment more than it is, revealing the essence of each second that ticks by. She holds me still, puts me together and binds me up for the day the days have gone past me and I'm still standing. Grace is love in every moment, in every corner, in the tiniest space and in each millisecond. Sometimes I'm bitter, but most times I can only be grateful for her presence.