I sit here in giddy anticipation of the weekend ahead. One filled with enjoyment of a beautiful places, girlfriends being reunited, and my best friend for the past 14 years promising and sealing her love to the man of her dreams. I have not been more excited about an event since my own wedding three years ago. It promises to be breath taking, inspiring and beautiful.
Half way around the world a country lies in shambles. My own country is preparing to attack it in order to hopefully bring an end to the obscene slaughter of men, women and children. People are needlessly dying, by the hands of their own government, by the truck load.
Its so heavy and light. It is so conflicting.
I am on the brink of tears for the joy and the pain, that both hold my heart in a reflective posture. And my soul cries out for a solution. For resolution and peace.
I struggle to understand it all, and it holds the capacity to overwhelm my feeble mind. How did we get here? How does this happen? Am I even suppose to understand this all?
I can’t. It is that simple. I cannot, for all my trying, understand this.
So I pray. And ask for help from the best Helper I know. And I hug my husband. I kiss his lips and cheeks, and tell him I love him more than I ever knew humanly possible. I pause in his arms and let Peace trickle down to my heart, as he is the human extension of the Deep Love that satisfies my spirit.
And my soul longs for the roads of Glory. For peace. And understanding.
I hope for a little more Grace than I had yesterday. Another helping of Mercy, please. And an open heart that is prepared and open to the moments I’m allowed to help, no matter how small it may seem.
More Grace, please. And more Mercy, if you don’t mind.