Rhythms of Grace

There are moments of feelings of freedom - moments when you feel you can taste goodness, when hope of life is so close you can almost touch it. Love and creativity intertwine with each other. The simplicity of a leaf brings awareness of beauty - God - love - life. Good music is playing in my ears as I write. I sit and listen. I feel alive. I can feel the breeze touch my skin as it passes by me. It moves my hair and reminds me of a life yet unrealized.

I am reflecting on this week. The sounds of the rhythms of grace I experienced this week. I experienced them through the longing of the man who lives in the woods addicted to drugs deeply desiring to be heard, loved and appreciated. He longed to believe that God loved him despite his addiction. As I looked into his tear filled eyes as he remembered the eight year old boy who asked Jesus to live in his heart. He cried as he remembered his innocence. I saw his innocence through the eyes of grace. I find myself compelled to love - let my grace be his grace.

I experienced the rhythms of grace through a young lady with pink spiked hair and a smile that lights up a room. Her voice speaks of the goodness of God despite the life of pain she has experienced. I hear her song and I moved by the rhythms of grace. The rhythms of God’s grace in the melody she sings as her body feels every word. I sense the love between her and her boyfriend as he adds harmony to her song - to their song together. Later I am able to hear her desperation and fears as she verbalizes her desires for her family to be together. I see grace through her fears. I see who God made her to be. I see beauty, strength, fighting hope, love. I see possibility that grace brings.

My wheels moved in circular motion, my muscles felt the tension and my soul felt alive as I moved along the bike path with my roommate with the sun beaming down on my shoulders and back. My legs steady as my upper body provides the strength. As I move I am living the rhythms of grace. The movement of my arms collide with grace. I am alive in this movement. I am living grace.

I moved with the rhythms of grace this week - a simple text from my brother that said “I love you”, hearing my mom’s unconditional love and dedication for my 90 year old grandfather in the midst of feelings of grief and loss - my roommate going to get frozen yogurt for us after cleaning all day as I tiredly sit on the couch - the sound of 25 people from different backgrounds and situations singing “Jesus, Lamb of God” - buying bunk beds for a family with three small children, and the grace never stops.

Oh, the rhythms of grace. As I write, my heart is beating fast. As I write, I can feel the love of God all over me - awareness of the simplicity and joy of the movement of His grace. The goodness never stops and my heart is overwhelmed.