A Sunday Sojourn
Walking with Grace
Last night I was restless with pain unresolved.
My anger asked to dance so we danced. I wanted to rage at the moon. To howl against the status quo and static in the air. All the old wounds opened with first a stammer then a weeping. The tears swimming at the corners of my eyes overflowing and falling down my cheeks. My stomach, a knot in my belly. My mind racing to piece together the grudges unresolved. The ache of past trauma begging to be witnessed.
Then I surrendered to sleep.
I woke early. Before the hounds rose to go outside and inhale the frosty air. I sat with gratitude this morning. We had coffee with cream and sugar. We read poetry together and swapped stories of grace. Gratitude is a goddess. She raises me up above the stale air to where the clean air of morning rises to meet my gaze.
My nimble fingers type words in the notes function as the steam from the coffee tickles my nose. I give thanks for being a writer. For the language of being still. And still here.
I’m embracing the mystery today. We broke though the pain and landed in the lap of God.
There is ease here. A quiet, nourishing vibe that transmutes the hurricane of pain into the stillness of a clear pond. I plant love in this rich soil.
I can’t wait to see what the day brings! What sweetness will emerge from the unexpected moments when grace says, I dare you to dream. Dream of new ways of being.