The darkest place.

Oh, to find the grace that lives at the bottom of the darkest place.

Oh, soul, to find the grace that lives at the bottom of the darkest place is to find the grace that can survive the most unbearable conditions.  It is to find the rarest of all graces, it is to find the grace that very few humans ever touch and see.  It is to find a grace that burns with the brightest light, that is able to glow with no outside influence, that needs no external encouragement or nourishment to survive, but fuels itself without end.

Full.

There’s a part of me that can’t focus today. I can’t do anything, because I’m so caught off guard by this fullness that is bubbling up inside of me.

As I sit here alone in this coffee shop all I can think is that I am all here.  All of me.  And what a shock that is.  After all the loss, after watching the people be taken from me that I could not live without, after feeling essential parts of me be torn out, how can it be that I am all here?

How can it be that no part of me is missing?

Jesus or His bread?

I laid in bed last night and tried to open my heart to Him. I tried to tell Him what I was feeling and articulate what I was longing for or aching for but there was just this sadness.  A weariness.  So I closed my eyes and went to sleep banking on new mercies.

And here they are to meet me.  Not in the way I would prefer, which is waking up feeling good and clear and excited about the week ahead.

Wrapping up Lent & the meaning of today

I’m writing this sitting at a bar in a diner. Next to me there is an older lady, drinking her coffee alone.  She’s looking around, smiling gently at others, not desperate for conversation, but not avoiding it.  She has nothing in her hands except her mug.

I, on the other hand, have a coffee, my phone, my kindle and my laptop all at my fingertips.  All available. All ready to ease me out of any discomfort that might come from being here alone on Easter Sunday.  What is it about us that is so uncomfortable at the thought of sitting, alone without distraction in a public setting.  Fear of boredom?  I think not.  I think it’s fear of being uncomfortable, fear of embarrassment; shame.