I feel it this morning before I even get out of bed, before I will my eyes to open. The peace in my belly. It is not a dream—for my dreams rarely leave a residue of calm.
Yet it is there and I am awake and not dreaming.
I know the first W of the list of questions…the Who brought this gift in the night. It is the why and the for how long that I get caught up in. The how is not easy for me either. I didn’t stray far from nightly routines, there was no revelation in prayer the night before. No change of circumstance that might have eased tense nerves and allowed me the opportunity to feel that which (or actually the who) never leaves.
So how did I get to a place of peace?
I have no answer.
Although later I had more questions.
Why peace before a flood?
Why calm on a Monday morning?
Why ease when the day turned out as it did?
(And as for the “turned out”, well it turned out that I walked into a sloppy flood in my office, followed later by rainfall…inside my 3rd floor office in a 4 story building planted smack dab in the middle of the desert!)
How about why, on this Monday morning full of peace, is there a prompting from a Canadian farm girl to write 3 graces I see:
1 in white
1 in wind
1 in water.
These 3 on a day that I wished building maintenance had brough a fan (wind) to dry the carpet outside my office before mold sets in. Wish that my regularly dry office was dry and that water would stay where we intend for it stay and go where we intend for it to go. Want for all the little white pills in my office to not be ruined by the water, and that can’t be dried by the wind. Want to stay in my little white dress instead of donning black gym clothes bought with money I don’t have at the cheap and plastic made in China shop on the corner.
Oh. Now I remember. Remember more than a decade ago when the campus pastor stood on stage and said that he admired the woman with MS who praised God for every wall she ran into, for every table she bumped into, for each bruise on her body.
Grace isn’t grace because I see it that way. Grace is grace because it is Grace bestowed as a gift whether I choose it as my own, want to see it or try my best to will it away.
Maybe all I get out of today is tucking that reminder back into my heart like my hair gets repeatedly tucked behind my ear when I walk in the Kansas winds. Forever taming myself as I walk out into the world.
I think today gets be a double grace day. The 3 gifts of white, wind and water also get to be the gifts from March 4–3 gifts that are hard to say thanks for.
*rain inside in the desert
*white dresses put back on hangers
*white pills to be counted and counted as a loss
*winds of change that blow hard
*winds of uncertainty that remind me I have nothing under control