Grace Amidst Turmoil

Grace keeps turning up in unexpected places:
The long-lost friend who says I haven’t changed at all in 40 years except for my hairstyle;
The neighbor knocking at our door in her housecoat, asking if I wrote that note and stuck it on her windshield;
Brazilian mothers holding microcephalic babies in their arms after Zika wrought its devastating toll, inducing weeping with their faith-filled, undying, tender love;
Amateur maestros serenading each other from open windows, touching — but not touching, melodies sweeping through north Italian air;
It’s 8:00 in Barcelona, time to shout “Viva los Medicos!” into empty streets below, heaven’s handclaps joining all her own.

Still, I find myself scratching the dirt, searching for these beggarly elements,
Forgetting the open, azure sky above
As the rag-clad celebrant
drones: “I want to die!”
But in You I live, and move, and have my being,
And being everything You are, You are the One I worship from afar,
Yet hold You close within my heart.
“The reason I live is to worship You!”
This I should have known full well, from the very start.

You have given me the gift of euphoria and ecstasy,
An embarrassment of riches
That perhaps my eyes alone could fully see
In the secret place of the expectant soul
Looking to the One Who alone makes whole and full.
So once again I lie here waiting for another dawn
As life unfolds each waking moment toward the Son,
Shining ever brighter to the perfect Day.
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