It’s not how one behaves when standing at the base of the rainbow that defines who they are, its how they behave when the world comes raining down. Grace under fire is not a stance one finds easily. Nor is it a haphazard approach. It is the imprint of one’s inner nature – expressed.
For that reason, it’s those who surround me now, during this unique time, that will also surround me later in life. They know me. And I know them. I know what they’re like when pelted heavily with rain and I know what they’re like when reclining against the base of a rainbow. Anyone can smile after the storm. But not everyone reveals grace under fire.
Last night someone mentioned my lack of expressed trepidation over a certain matter in my life. I have to imagine to some, my stolid ways seem as though I’m camouflaging something or oddly desensitized to my surroundings. It’s neither. It is however, my nature to run towards my center, my peace, when the going gets tough.
I’ve spent much of my life as the bird in the cage. The cage being the impervious walls behind which I always hid; walls that guarded me when young. It wasn’t until the last five years of my life that I forcefully opened the door within me, and flew free. But my ways are now ingrained. My nature is set. Even when standing on the figurative plank, on which I’ve stood many times in my life, I tend to look around and notice the cerulean waters. I notice the sun as it reflects upon the sea. I look to my center.
I have to imagine my son being diagnosed with cancer, and the suspended free-fall in which I lived afterward only added to my ingrained ways. My son required of me my peace. And I gave it amply. I may not be able to foretell the future, but if I believe in God then I must believe in faith – as its one of the conduits by which God’s energy flows.
Sometimes my emotions are like a kite in the wind, forcing me to surrender into myself and grow immensely quiet. There too are days when I long to dress like a clown, solely to make others wonder. Also arrive the days when I unplug from everything and dance like a gypsy with my daughter. I suppose those times may not seem like grace in action, upon first glance. But I feel differently. To me, those moments are manifestations of the human spirit trying to adjust to life in a world filled with the confluence of good and bad, success and failure, heart-break and love. It’s amazing we do as well as we do. We should all look upon ourselves with a great deal of compassion, considering all that bucks against us.
Most of all grace is seen in the little things. Grace is giving the last of what one has to someone in need. Grace is shifting from an easier path to one that’s rougher only so our friend doesn’t have to walk alone while there. Grace is not indifference. Grace is love. Its tapped into when we laugh. Its tapped into when we cry. Grace is that little bit of God we allow ourselves to reveal. I have to imagine it matters greatly to God who’ll be standing next to Him when under fire. Life is life. I don’t believe the road is always paved in gold. Or if it is, I’ve yet to make it to that part of the world. Instead, I feel we’re continually given new opportunities to expand and grow. Both tend to require we bust free from the old so we can step into the new; more often than not, it’s a painful, upheaval of an undertaking. One either has faith during it, or they run from the rain. How we behave is never beyond our control. Wherever my journey takes me, wherever the road goes, I hope to always hold the same stance with my umbrella in hand.