Peace, Peace

We'd just about had it. Well, we had had it. Pa and I were up to our necks in problems, what with his Mama being really sick, nearly three months of being held hostage in our house, a wedding that got tossed all up in the air (they cancelled our beautiful venue because of Covid-19) and then just plain being cranky. We've all felt like we were slogging through mud. We've had all this time but nobody wants to actually do anything with it except binge-watch and take naps at strange hours of the day. I've found myself all pretzeled-up in unnatural positions, with drool running down my face. We're practically living on our front porch, but that's not a bad thing. Nicest spring weather I remember in years. 

If things weren't bad enough, some idiot cop does an evil murder, igniting an already-hot powder keg. If we thought the sky was falling before, now it's burning. Lord help. Ken and I were devolving from the stress already, when we decided to duke it out on the front porch. Not physically, but verbally. We were trying to come up with fresh plans about how to have our daughter's wedding in the back yard, but he's the unstoppable force and I'm the immovable object. The poor neighbors must have wondered what those supposed Christian people were up to. There ain't been no church to speak of and we're talking two heathens here, except that they've been saved by the grace of God. Two brands plucked from the fire.

We harangued back and forth, spiraling into really stupid arguments that made no purchase. How silly we humans can be, our pride choking all forward movement and hurting ourselves and others in the process. Eventually we sat silent, spent and full of regret. Nothing was fixed, Pa had to get to bed, and I still hadn't eaten my supper. If we can't get along, how do we expect the world to? I stayed up insanely late with our daughter, thinking aloud and worrying ourselves weary with the complications. There was nothing to be done but finally surrender to sleep. The human condition is often fraught with the hopelessness of our sin nature. Where is hope? Where is mercy? Where is grace? 

Today I wrestled with the idea of going to the protest that was taking place in downtown Villa Rica. It scared me, the thought of hearing what might be uncomfortable, the possibility of danger or simply the unknown. I arrived to a peaceful, quiet crowd. There were things said, some good, some bad, things shouted, prayers lifted up. I met a new friend, Lillie, a beautiful woman with a kind soul. We talked, listened, nodded, had a moment, but mostly an unspoken ease between us. We were there because we know things must change, if we are to have peace. She spoke of God, the same one that I know. In the beginning, our ancestors got off the boat with Noah all those millenia ago. We're cousins. 

Just like when I laid down my pride as I laid my head on my husband's chest after desecrating the porch with my stubbornness...I and we must also reach across to our cousins of every stripe to really see each other. That's gonna take a lot. The grace of God is where it begins.