Grace like rain
is falling down on me…”
I love the simplicity of Aaron Keyes’ gently, and reverently, recorded version of “Grace Like Rain.” But isn’t this the nature of grace itself, “simple, yet profound,” a combination of qualities Mary Baker Eddy wisely uses in reference to John’s statement, “God is Love.” And I think it is God’s love for us, that gives birth to this thing called grace.
Grace. What an amazing word. It evokes such tenderness and peace. To speak it, is to sigh a prayer of mercy. To think it, is to hope. To live it, is to trust that God’s care is not a salary earned or a reward bargained for. It is a gift, the gift, the inheritance, the unconditional outpouring of love from a divine parent to His beloved child.
Grace, like rain, doesn’t choose where it will fall, it doesn’t decide what fields to bless, which wildfires of fear to still, or whose thirst for mercy to quench. Grace is the activity of Love, which, when it falls like rain is, as Eddy promises:
“…impartial and universal in its adaptation and bestowals.”
Grace under fire, amazing grace, grace to go forward, by the grace of God…axioms of grace that persist and permeate, resound and resonate, align and elevate us to our birthright as children of the Most High.
I wonder sometimes, how often am I truly aware of, and grateful for, those gentle grace notes of spiritual being.. Those times when I suddenly realize that God has met my need…blessed my life with all that was necessary, or required…and yet goes that extra step to bring a touch of unexpected divinity to my humanity.
I love grace…it is the “thought gently whispers” threading itself through the sometimes complex tapestry of my days. It is the “peace be still” to the shrieking winds and waves of fear, emotion, distraction or doubt that tries to wear me out and drown my spiritual ardor.
I noticed the presence of this grace, the other day when a moment of ego-centric atrophy came crashing through me. I seemd to be caught in a trainwreck of misunderstanding and reaction…one that threatened to send me spiraling into another county. But there, right there in middle of it all, in the cacophonous swirl of self-justification, and the twisting metal of self-loathing, was the grace of God, the presence of the Christ, singing hymns of peace. Songs of grace…coming from the most unexpected place at that moment…within me.
This is grace…an invitation to be beautiful, as Sara Groves sings in “Add to the Beauty.” By the way, do you get that I love this song. But this isgrace…the invitation, from within us, to be beautiful in the middle of those moments that are…shall we say…less than beautiful.
Jospeh Cooke once wrote that:
“Grace is the face that love wears
when it meets imperfection.”
These instance of human imperfection are the field in which grace flourishes. They are the meadow where grace blossoms into a kaleidoscope of color. They are the moment we often find embellished with divine ornaments…gentle grace notes of unsought kindness, humility’s silence, and a stranger’s compassion.
Anne Lamott says:
“I do not understand the mystery of grace –
only that it meets us where we are
and does not leave us where it found us.”
Oh my….it is more than enough to bring me to my knees. But then, isn’t there were we belong anyway?
The fervent [burning] desire for grace, is, as Eddy says, “what we most need.” And if it is what we most need, our grace-bestowing Father-Mother God will not leave us with just what is necessary…but with something more…something surprisingly, serendipitously, amazingly more.
Ah yes…grace. What a word.
standing in awe of it…
Kate Robertson, CS
I have included this video clip of two high school boys singing “Grace Life Rain,” (the recording is Todd Agnew’s) because I am so touched that this is how they would spend an afternoon in a meadow. It makes me want to cry