Stories of Grace

Today I was reminded we live in a fallen world. Things are not as they were meant to be. We experience pain. We feel hurt and confused. We go through tribulations. One problem snowballs into another and another until we don’t seem to know what to do with circumstances that feel as if they are spiraling out of control.

Put simply, sometimes life doesn’t work like we think it should.

And then I was reminded of the truth.

There is a rainbow at the end of the storm. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. Darkness is temporary. God is the great Deliverer, no matter the circumstances. He has provided examples of people in the Bible and in our lives that prove this notion is true.

Grace, tonight I pray I will help you find the rainbows after your storms. One day you will come to me crying after having scraped your elbow. The next day you might get your feelings hurt when someone at school calls you a name. Eventually, you might tell me about a boy who just broke your heart.

I hope we have a relationship where those kinds of conversations can happen. I hope I’m sensitive enough to God’s direction to know what to say when they do. And I hope I know when to say nothing at all. A hug may be what you need most.

Your dad will always love you.

In my short foray into Moby Dick, I was struck by the passage below. It reminds me of Bonhoeffer’s thoughts on costly Grace. I can see Bonhoeffer reading this and thinking true Grace is like this. People are drawn to it. They are pursuing it. In that journey, people find God, the source of Grace.

“There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.

There now is your insular city of the Manhattoes, belted round by wharves as Indian isles by coral reefs — commerce surrounds it with her surf. Righ and left, the streets take you waterward. Its extreme downtown is the Battery, where that noble mole is washed by waves, and cooled by breezes, which a few hours previous were out of sight of land. Look at the crowds of water-gazers there.

Circumambulate the city of a dreamy Sabbath afternoon. Go from Corlears Hook to Coenties Slip, and from thence, by Whitehall, northward. What do you see? — Posted like silent sentinels all around the town stand thousands upon thousands of mortal men fixed in ocean reveries. Some leaning against the spiles; some seated upon the pier-heads; some looking over the bulwarks of ships from China; some high aloft in the rigging, as if striving to get a still better seaward peep. But these are all landsmen; of week days pent up in lath and plaster — tied to counters, nailed to benches, clinched to desks. How then is this? Are the green fields gone? What do they here?

But look! Here come more crowds, pacing straight for the waters, and seemingly bound for a dive. Strange! Nothing will content them but the extremest limit of the land; loitering under the shady lee of yonder warehouses will not suffice. No. They must get just nigh the water as they possibly can without falling in. And there they stand — miles of them — leagues. Inlanders all, they come from lanes and alleys, streets and avenues — north, east, south and west. Yet here they all unite. Tell me, does the magnetic virtue of the needles of compasses of all those ships attract the thither?

Once more. I Say, you are in the country’ in some high land of lakes. Take almost any path you please, and ten to one it carries you donw in a dale, and leaves you there by a pool in the stream. There is magic in it. Let the most absent-minded of men be plunged in his deepest reveries — stand that man on his legs, set his feet a-going, and he will infallibly lead you to water, if water there be in all that region. Should you ever be athirst in the great American desert, try this experiment, if your caravan happen to be supplied with a metaphysical professor. Yes, as everyone know, mediation and water are wedded forever.”

olympus xa Dallas Train Stop

Today was the first day I took the train to work since Grace was born. More precisely, it was my first trip on the train in about two months. It felt good to be back. There’s just something I enjoy about riding the train to work.

On the way home I met a woman who was in town from Germany for a conference. It was her first time overseas, let alone in Dallas. She clutched her DART route map tightly and checked it every time the train stopped. She stared out the window most of the trip at the passing buildings, streets, cars and trucks, trying to take in the city. She told me she wished she had rented a car instead of relying on public transportation. She was amazed at how large Dallas is. Take an hour train ride in Germany and you travel across a large portion of the country. In Dallas, you never leave the city limits. Dallas was so different from where she is from. It was like an uncharted land full of new adventures.

I couldn’t help but wonder if life for Grace is much like it is for this woman right now. Grace is looking at everything for the first time. She stares at everything as if trying to analyze each object down to its smallest detail.

She has to learn what everything is, how everything works. She has to find her way in this strange new land in which she finds herself. Everything she does is an adventure, even if it’s as simple as traveling from one room in our house to another. Any slight change in her schedule or movement is something new to her.

She is seeing the world for the first time. Take it in, Grace. Take it all in.

Before Grace was born, I promised myself I would read Scripture to her on a regular basis from the begining. I want her to have a firm foundation in God’s word as early as possible. I want her to know God exists and He cares for her.

I’ve heard it said that it’s always best to start at the beginning and finish at the end, so that’s exactly what we did. We began with Genesis 1.

I didn’t really know what to expect. When I started reading to her she was a little wound up. She was wiggling and flailing her arms about as I sat down in the chair and picked up the Bible.

But as I read, she grew quiet. She began looking directly at me and seemingly listening to each word I said. The room became silent except for me reading.

When we got to day six, Grace exploded with excitement. It was like she understood how people got to this new place where she is living. God created people and called each of us ”good.” It was an amazing moment for her. It created such joy.

And it was an amazing moment for me. I hope I always remember this moment with my daughter. The excitement she seemed to show from the first reading of Scripture to her made my heart jump for joy. No matter what she goes on to do, no matter who she goes on to be, I want to remember the excitement she had the first time she heard Scripture. That moment is one of the first of what hopefully will be many steps toward a deep relationship with God.

Maybe one day my Bible will look like this one from our reading sessions. Not worn out. Just well worn.

I think this story just shows how hungry people are for a little Grace. They want some sign that they are cared for. Thousands of people will rally behind someone who simply wants to give out free hugs.