I was using a microphone, though I probably didn’t need it. I was just doing my job, singing a psalm like I do every weekend.
I was exhausted. The weight of difficult months had leached energy from my soul just as certain meds can leach calcium from your bones. One’s bones. My bones.
Due to some dramatic lighting in the worship space I was literally in the spotlight. I was in a bright dress. I was just doing my job.
Lord, let your mercy be on us as we place our trust in you.
Of course I trust. What choice do I have? And I still look for mercy even if I don’t know what it looks like.
As I sang, in the spotlight, in my bright dress, in my illness, in my grief, my love and faith exploded and splashed themselves across the inside of my eyeballs so the room disappeared and grace was all I could see.
You chase me down the nights and down the days. Even knowing I love you is a gift from You. You give me the love I then long to lavish back on You. Even when I hurt and don’t understand, when I forget to pray, You find me. Keep my heart open to your grace.
I was just doing my job.
You are beautiful, even in your illness, grief and disposition. Grace-filled, I’d say.
Thanks, Geralyn. I’m trying to stay grace-filled, as if it were up to me.
Beautiful. Thank you.
Thank you, Claire.