A Blurred Vision of Grace


I'm writing to catch up.  I'm writing because I've again lost track of the rhythm.  That rhythm that always saves me from losing my sense of grace.  This is how I fight for joy.  I write.  

The days have been burning with the heat of pressure in the work place.  I spent the weekend in the plant.  Going through large rolls of paper all lined up to the ceiling.  Hearing the printing machine buzz out sheets and sheets of copies to catch up.  We are always catching up.  Absorbed with a lot of worries  the rhythm of catching up has been the drum beat we've marching to.  

There were tears of frustration and some voices rose to their breaking point.  I watched and absorbed it all.  And I am grateful that these days pass away.  That there are moments, although few and far between, where I can be silent and walk my own rhythm to catch up with my life. But how long do I have to keep catching up? 

My vision blurs to the sight of grace.  But even in its blurred beauty the truth remains. This realization.   I do not have to catch up because grace always catches me. 

I refuse to be taunted by the pressures that scream loud.  Taunted by the fear that if I do not catch up I am nothing and that all my effort goes to waste.  Provoked by the seeming challenge that if I do not make ruthless decisions, I have failed as a leader.  

There were a lot of surprising things that I began to see.  Pressure changes people.  It makes them desperate to use measures that control what they think they can.  It okay to tell white lies so that you can win business deals?  It is alright to tell made-up stories so that you can appease the complaint coming your way?  

I am somehow disillusioned at the sight of how desperation to protect oneself leads into weaving lie after lie so that at the end of the day you'll be able to say, "I just did my job." 

People can forget that grace is sufficient.  I do.  But today, I take my time again to remember that it is.  It is sufficient.  And it is in my weakness that His power is made perfect.  The power to be truthful even when you're facing the threat of losing a deal.  The power to be compassionate even when you're shoved against a wall and all fingers are pointing on you.  The power to be grateful even when all things seem to not be going your way given the present circumstances.

Most of all, the power to pause.  To stop.  To let go or walk away when it is time.

This power becomes hope.  The hope that does not disappoint.  I surmise that if I keep walking in this hope, I'll be walking with Him.  And the refreshing streams of peace is just a bend a way.


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