What a precious gift grace is. I spent the last five days in a hospital and Hospice house watching the final stages of dying. Dying is very hard to watch. The incredible machine we walk around in every day systematically shuts down a little at a time. Observing is excruciating when watching one you love. The poison of cancer invades every cell. Pain ravages inside and out. The skin dissolves to a sickening hue. The once splendid countenance turns shallow and dark. The amazing body that houses the soul succumbs. Everyone eventually faces the experience. Seldom is one subjected to witnessing the process. Observing, reminds one of the hopelessness of death.
But, traveling along in all the hurt is grace. Grace that softens all the ugliness. Grace that veils the pain. Grace that resounds in laughter while reminiscing. Moments drag by as the ambivalence directs each moment. Smiles and tears blend together. Nearly unaware, grace, gently softens the room. Grace holds sway over the invasion of death. Grace heightens the hope of victory. Grace tenderly wraps his arms around everyone and holds them close.
The process unfolds with agonizing monotony when suddenly grace sounds the trumpet and love envelops the room. Love that transcends…love that permeates darkness and shines a brilliant light. Ugliness turns to beauty in an instant. Hope replaces despair. “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound.” Thank you my dearest Lord for lavishing grace on my beautiful mom. Thank you my Savior, for your unending grace that welcomes us home.
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