Wind gapes through my brunette locks and catches that droplet dripping sorrow and grief. Wet teardrop whisked away to that heavenly storehouse where the God-Man bottles it in His perfect love and healing grace. Clouds are hovering in blue sky and the air is turning heavy with grey. Piercing through, a single ray of fierce light. It fights the black and the cold for a few moments. And I fight the suffering and sin all the same. From those mysterious bowels of cloud and sky, the droplets descend, crashing with a roar upon Mother Earth. Ray of sun shattered in a piercing instant. Feet wade in the fresh puddle. Locks drip wet and eyes close beneath the seeming misery. Tear and raindrop mix into one thundering roar. And it all seems to be too much.
I’m a forgetful creature. A woman of self-absorption, gripped with sin, whose brokenness often blurs that holy perspective. But the skies open and the rain falls and the tears of Grace – that God of abundant grace – descend. And I catch my tears, but only as I catch His. I sorrow, but only as He sorrows. I weep, but only as He has already wept.
His grace doesn’t demand our wounds ignored or forgotten. Grace frees us from the veil of shame because Grace already bore the wound, and Grace still wields the scar.
We weep and we mourn and we suffer – Adam’s fall ever infectious over these lives we live – and we ache for all of this world’s suffering and all of our own immediate hurt to be healed.
Sky sulks. Grey hovers over yellow harvest fields and over my tear-stained soul. I set the kettle on stove and wait for tea leaves to steep into full, majestic flavor. Eyes and heart fastened on the falling happening outside. His tears. My tears. And maybe yours too?
Tears because pain is real and the hurt runs deep.
I pour hot tea into that crackled stoneware. Cinnamon and hibiscus and orange peel dancing wildly together. I feel lifeless. And maybe it’s because I’m thankless? After all, that Word says, Enter into my joy through gates of thanksgiving.
Oh, dear Ann unveiled that secret and I’m remembering it now:
Deep chara joy is found only at the table of the euCHARisteo – the table of thanksgiving…As long as thanks is possible, then joy is always possible. Joy is always possible. Whenever, meaning – now; wherever, meaning – here…Here, in the messy, piercing ache of now, joy might be – unbelievably – possible!
The miracle of healing – that miracle we ache after ‘neath heavy skies and world’s disappointments and failures run deep and utterly brutal scars – it comes when we offer thanks.
It comes when we, with sorrow gripping fierce and darkness laying low, come unto the Healer, with gratitude on our wet, tear-saturated lips & whisper it true.
And it’s hard. It’s a hard offering up, dear one. But, don’t we desperately long for the miracle? Don’t we crave after beauty and life abundant? Didn’t Augustine say that we are all on this maddening search for eternal joy?
Then this is the secret.
My tea cup is empty. I reach for that white glazen pot and pour until it fills. And I reach for that Word and receive the filling.
John, in His Gospel, says that on the night Jesus was betrayed, He took the cup – the cup of suffering and death and of costly crucifixion – and he gave thanks.
And I take the cup,
of broken engagement,
and loss of love,
and friendship betrayed,
and reputation scarred,
and possessions forfeited,
and plans utterly pierced through,
and almost father-in-law diagnosed with cancer,
and this wounded walk of life,
and I give thanks.
Thanks for the grace and the God of grace Who covers all and sustains all. For the heart of that God-Man and the love of that Beloved, Who is for me and never against me. For the Giver of every good and perfect gift, and that these sufferings are not separate from His goodness. For the Healer, who comforts, but who also cries. For the One in Whom joy is always possible.
This, with love from Meg, at Grace Words.
**Because all is just wild grace, there’s a place saved just for you, so stop by…maybe?**
The lovely photo, compliments of this little space in the web-world.Leave a Comment
Did you know the 4th cup at Passover that Jesus used for “communion” is the Cup of Redemption? … Thank you for the beautiful word and may he redeem all our days indeed … Baruch atah, Adonai Eloheinu, Melech haolam (Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Sovereign of all)
What glory & grace!
The fourth cup – Redemption!
Giving thanks, with you, for a God who does and can and will redeem all things!
In the early dawn I read your words and am touched and encouraged. May His Grace continue to fill us all that we might count it all Joy.
Blessings dear sister.
In the early morning I read your words and am touched and encouraged. May His grace fill us that we may count it all Joy.
Blessings dear sister
And His grace does fill…bless His Holy Name.
Wow. No words except thank you for sharing your utter deep pain in the face of grace.
Barren places really can break with bloom! Just wild, amazing grace!
Mrs. D :) says
To give thanks in the midst of deep seeded pain I find it to be… so hard to do yet all the more reason to do it even if my heart is not in it. Thank you for the reminder of Jesus giving thanks for He knew what was before Him. Funny how we don’t always know what lays ahead for us and immediately make the determination not to trust Him fully. Pray that we can always run to Him and trusting Him with our whole heart <3.
And just maybe…trust is built on the planks of thanksgiving?!
So, so, so beautiful. The truth is always so beautiful. Thank you for this honest post. I needed the reminder today.
Ah, He is beautiful.
Maybe the words pour honest when the wounds run deep because THE WORD saturates all the sunken places & HOW to keep silent then?
Being reminded all over again…with you, dear friend.
Gratitude heals hearts. 🙂 I love Ann. She pointed me int he right direction and her words changed me.
Just amen, sister.
Oh beautiful, absolutely beautiful! Thank you….
*Knowing these words were read by YOU, dear sister. Just. so. humbling. Really.*
Like you, I have learned that thankfulness can heal the deepest wounds. Thank you for your beautiful words.
The wounds run deep & the sorrow sulks long, but in thankfulness, He restores our souls, redeems all the broken places. And it’s just wild, miraculous, holy grace! Astounds my soul! Thank you, dear one, for stopping by & sharing the grace!
Bev Landgren says
Thank you for this –
God’s grace is healing me from the wound of the death of my son, 18 months ago. Sometimes I spiral into my own hurt and loss, these words are such a great reminder to regularly fill my cup, and to be thankful for the time I did have.
In His Grace –
Dear sister. Reaching over, holding you soul close & just learning how to breathe with you. Lean in long, let Him love you & believe – He can and does and will redeem all things. Just lean into those everlasting arms. **I’m. right. there. with. you.**
I’m grateful, indeed I am, but have no joy. Joy comes in the morning; my night is not yet over. Your words are beautiful, and I’m grateful I can realize that. My response feels leaden, but not snarky, which seems amazing to me, as it’s the constant companion during depression. My gratitude cup is thimble-sized these dark days, and I’m eager to exchange it for a chalice. Nothing happens… Maybe tomorrow?
Maybe. right. now. dear sister? Just…maybe?
When the pain pierces strong and the dark lingers on, we’re the fallen and the wounded and where is joy then?
I’ve asked the questions through many sleepless nights & lonely days & this is what my soul knows to be true:
When I’m in the dark, it’s because He’s got me covered in the cleft of the rock, His Presence never left me. Maybe, dear sister, it’s in the dark where the greatest joy can be produced because vision is clearest & His Presence closest?
Just praying for startling joy and grace to overtake your dark tonight…
*Leaning in close, holding you…*
Every beautiful word written described my exact emotions this morning , the poetic capture of feelings is breathtaking. I too gave thanks to God in my moment of despair and was so grateful to be reminded to do so. Your delicate spirit in this moment is being prayed for as well. Stay strong and many blessings to you.
Our God of grace…always, infinitely worthy of our thanks.
*Being reminded all over again, with you, dear one.*
Just Wild Grace! « Grace Words says
[…] tapped out a few lines a few months ago & the dear women over at in(Courage) decided to publish […]
Dear Meg, I was right where you are about 30 years ago! I was following the Lord, but I still felt like my world went spinning out of control. So much I could say, so much story in between, but as you well know, God is so very faithful and so very good, and We can certainly trust Him. I can’t wait to see how He writes the rest of your story. It won’t be without twists, turns, and skinned knees, but it will be glorious! I know…30 yrs. later, my story is wonderful and still being told!!! Thanks for your words! You have a beautiful gift in using them so well. I am so blessed.
And. I. am. so. blessed.
Thank *you* for pressing deep into the scarred side + believing in the midst of a world turned upside down. You inspire me forward in grace.
Such beautiful, heartfelt, soul filled prose! You have a gift. Thank you for your elegant way of describing Grace in the moment. In the hard, messy, tough times of life… which is where I believe we learn the most.
Praying for you.
And it’s just grace that the broken bits of us can form words + isn’t this how to really write? Jesus bent to write in the dust + His words settle eternal there. So I bend + I let the bare parts of me write + it’s just wild, amazing grace that they can touch your heart. *You* bless me sister, your prayers encouraging + humbling me tonight.
Elise Albert says
Your written words have resonated in my heart since I read them. Touched my soul, my heart aches for you. I suffered a great loss 9 years ago. My childhood sweetheart, one of a kind guy, husband of 26 years, died unexpectantly. Through the pain and loneliness the words of Isaiah (Chapter 61)..beauty for ashes, oil of joy for mourning, garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness, carried me and is true. The Lord has been faithful to restore all the years “the locusts have eaten” and blessed me with another husband, a new life, and a deeper walk with Him! His word is True and I know the pain is real. Stand strong, Wait on Him..He is faithful!! (Isaiah 43:18) Blessings to you precious one!
I am convinced that you know it soul-well, how He is the God who does + can + will redeem all things. *Wishing I could share a cup of tea with you, see all that believing in your eyes, extend the grace, share in the redemption.* But for now, just giving thanks for your wildly believing heart + your sweet encouragement. He is infinitely faithful + we are always loved. *Blessed by YOU.*
Beth WIlliams says
Beautifully written post! I,too, have had times of hardship,loss, feeling unloved. Through it all God was right there bearing the pain with me. He knew well in advance what I could bear and how I would cope!
Praying for this season of yours!@ May God redeem it with His grace!
And it’s just grace, isn’t it sister – how ours is the God who does + can + will redeem ALL things? Just soul-astounded with you!
Beautiful words, beautiful imagery, beautiful message.