to run like Grace
I have been struggling with my word for this year. Seriously, it’s like somebody took my voice box out and disconnected the cord that plugs me into God and I’m all mute and helpless. Last year my words were BELOVED and BRAVE. I forged forward in the wake of these words and through faith did a few new things that made me shake in my boots. I’m like Elijah, with two bold words behind me, tripping into a new year and wanting to run to a cave and hide.
This year I’m claiming GRACE. Because I feel I’m out here bumbling around.
A friend reminded me today that grace is more than forgiving our sins and those of others. Grace actually empowers us to overcome sin and fear. So, yes, please.
Out here, in the openness of a new year, I want introduce you to GRACE.
The kind that chases.
I had spent most of the weekend with my dear friend at her farm. With her fresh loss and my old hurts and stings we needed a long walk, a trip to the farmer’s market, a good bookstore and a strong iced coffee . We needed to pick blackberries and eat them right off the bush. And to dine on nothing but potato chips that first night, talking fast.
The next day, rested, we served fresh corn from the farm in the perfect purple bowl found in a quaint shop. We mixed tomatoes and goat cheese and let all the freshness of it soothe us.
And then we took a long walk with our dogs.
Because what we both needed the most was all this open space for the memories that lingered.
And we needed to remember how Grace moves.
This is Grace.
I would have taken video of her, but she runs at mock speed, darting in and out of the woods, into any body of water, and 500 yards ahead of the rest of the dog pack. And us. She’s a blur.
Grace goes where she isn’t supposed to go. Down hills and into ponds and bounding off into the woods where snakes and other threats are hidden.
My friend warns her to stay on the path. But Grace doesn’t listen.
Grace doesn’t know there are rules.
There are 5,000 acres spread out and I’m certain she has touched them all.
And when Sunday comes I want to stay here where Grace runs, where it is comfortable and beautiful.
Where tall pines are transformed into crosses by the morning light. Where the dew on the hydrangeas washes away the evening.
But it’s time to take the road home.
And as I turn from the fields to the familiar, I pray a very simple prayer.
“Father, may I go after grace like that sweet dog, with wild abandon and boundless energy.”
Because that dog named Grace chases.
“I do not at all understand the mystery of grace – only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us.” ~Anne Lamott
P.S. As I claim the word meant for me in my wilderness, I’ll be cheering for you too, that we all might run like Grace.
~Amy (Blue Jean Girl)
“And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.”2 Cor 9:8
Now we’re off to the next book. Yay!
“The Ragamuffin Gospel was written with a specific reading audience in mind. This book is not for the superspiritual. It is not for the muscular Christians who have made John Wayne, and not Jesus, their hero. It is not for the academics who would imprison Jesus in the ivory tower of exegesis. It is not for the noisy, feel-good folks who manipulate Christianity into a naked appeal to emotion. It is not for hooded mystics who want magic in their religion. It is not for the Alleluia Christians who live only on the mountaintop and have never visited the valley of desolation. It is not for the fearless and tearless….If anyone is still reading along, The Ragamuffin Gospel was written for the bedraggled, beat-up, and burnt-out. It is for the sorely burdened who are still shifting the heavy suitcase from one hand to the other.” ~~Brenning Manning
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