Sitting at home dealing with frustration. The OT cancellation of my power wheelchair consultation. The death of my wheelchair and the search for a replacement. The turmoil my days have been thrown into, I began to think. Oddly, about holiness. I know, I know that's an odd tangent - but my mind works in mysterious ways.
At one time I thought holiness came from a set of behaviours, more precisely un-behaviours. Not swearing. Not drinking. Not smoking. Not staring at my neighbours ass. That sort of thing. But then I noticed the oddest things.
Many who do not swear are cursed with self righteousness.
Many who do not drink are often drunk on self importance.
Many who do not smoke oddly spend a lot of time fuming.
It seems such an easy way into the state of grace, of holiness, to simply not engage in behaviour that - to my mind - are petty. Surely something like holiness requires at least a bit of doing rather than non-doing.
I know, I know, I've heard the sermons that talk about how grace is a gift. And I think it is ... but I think it's a gift that requires giving. I think holiness in spirit becomes holiness in action. I don't think that grace can exist in quiet places. I don't think that holiness would know what to do without noise and clutter and demands.
I've been on the phone today, all day on and off with people. Some who are being paid to assist me. Some who are being paid to assist others. And I noticed something. It's in the tone of voice - when I know that someone cares, and I feel comforted. It's in the words chosen - when I know that someone is trying, and I feel reassured. It's how the words suddenly seem like they are spoken to the rhythm of a fast beating heart, and I feel understood. It's in those moment that I feel someone else's grace surround me. It's in those moments that I feel a holy connection.
I wonder, now, if grace is possible at all - in isolation. I wonder, too, if holiness can happen in a solitary heart. I wonder.
Much of what we do with and to and for others comes, I know, from the wellspring of goodness in each of us. I believe that every parent of every child reading this blog knows what it is to want to just do and do and do ... to make things better. I know that every professional reading this blog have had days where they just hung their head and cried in frustration.
I know that grace is possible.
I know that holiness comes. And it comes with cost.
I just didn't know how much I needed it.
So I end the day with hope that everything will be fixed tomorrow. Because people tried hard to help me. Because people listened to me. Because there was, at least a smidgen of grace left in a busy world ...
And for this I am thankful.