A Matter Of Grace

For the life of me

I cannot find where it stops

And starts

There are those who have the off valve at their disposal, and those

Who cannot find the switch marked “on”

They,  being of a large herd of people, otherwise known as sheep, who hear his voice and claim to control the grace valve

For the life of me

I stand under the pining Jesus, starring, as though never before having been introduced to grace which is my imagination at work, because I have known grace for an eternity, marveling at raw new grace as if for the first time, for the life of me and all the sheep

And I ask him to stand by me

As if we were looking out in tandem, out at the world on the cusp of another July

And I ask, in a muffled prayer, and squint the eyes of my heart, because they are closer to 20/20 than my old eyes, arriving upon another July

“Where does the grace begin and end?”

Because

For the life of me, of which there have been 56 July’s, to add a frame of reference to some of the things I’ve seen

And I weep and he wails

This artist has depicted him bent and bemoaning

And I as an artist, writing of grace, I feel it is perfectly fitting because of the pain

And for the life of him

I cannot find the end

Of unceasing grace, unending gift, a long tangling and untangling of one more lagnaippe, gift upon gift, generously unfurled

From on high, an example of how to unfurl the fists, clenched

The hands in the crucifix hold the flow of grace

Upon grace

For the life of holy, sacred

Him

For the life of me, I think I may now see, the one more small added grace, upon the existing grace, upon the extended grace, upon the amazing grace, upon the forever and ever amen grace

ad infinitum

let grace flow

For goodness’ sake, for the life of Him in us

Joining Laura Boggess. Because it is Monday