And you ask me what grace is. I can't even respond but my mind is constantly contemplating its depths. And this my friend, this is what grace is. to me. today:
My room is a mess.
My bed isn't made.
Piles of campfire smell filled clothes and blankets litter my house.
Dead flowers in a vase, petals surrounding its circumference.
Unwashed bed hair in a messy pony-tail.
Makeup-less face.
Bought coffee.
.Peace.
and I feel it...
this slow rhythm of becoming okay with my mess.
this slow steady process of coming to peace with it.
this uncharted journey of the realization that You are the one who straightens and tidies.
I don't figure my life out and get my own shit together....
You do.
You and your marvelous, peace-filled grace.
You love me in the midst of this.
You love me just as I am with my unwashed hair and messy campfire smelling room.
You love me and this brings peace.
Not the false testimony of "peace peace" that comes from my strenuous efforts to organize my clutter. But instead comes from the deep, concrete, assured peace that simply comes from being loved by you.
and that love.
That crazy, messy, unpredictable, wild love that is absolutely and in no-way dependant upon my internal organizational skills, but 100% dependant upon Your unfathomable, over-generous, mercy filled grace.
You undo me.
Again and again you undo me.
I am my beloved's and he is mine.
This is grace. This is grace to me. today.
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