Lately, I have been contemplating on the concept of grace. This is a concept I could never really wrap my brain around understanding. Its very definition eluded my consciousness. I would think to myself, what is grace, really? I would try to match my understanding with common examples of grace found in our everyday world like the grace period that is on our car loan or saying grace before a meal. Still, nothing truly made sense. When I was younger I heard a lot about the grace of God, but it was never connoted on a positive vibe. “Only by the grace of God are you able to be on this earth, you hussy.” This was the discourse on grace from my formative years with my grandmother who was a wounded goddess that didn’t know the meaning of the word either.
In this month’s issue of O, The Oprah Magazine, there are ten stories and a few scientific approaches to understanding grace as a matter of coincidence and deeper meaning in a tear-jerking article called Moments of Grace. As I was making my vision board for 2015, I flipped through the pages of O looking for power words and pictures when I stumbled upon this article. In its usual fashion, the Universe was leaving me a breadcrumb trail on the path of deeper understanding.
I didn’t feel like reading about grace then, so I just ripped the article out for later and recycled the magazine.
This past Saturday, grace was nudging me yet again to read about her multi-dimensional facets, as I tried to understand the true meaning of her divine presence. I sat down and finally read the article and was moved by grace being symbolized as serendipity, messages from beyond, and healing messages for the future. I began to understand grace’s undefinable grandness in the quiet, unexpected moments of life as a gentle breeze of reprieve, a boon one would never expect in the midst of pain and hardship.
The next day, I was feeling under the weather. I had stayed up too late with my husband Eric watching Love Actually, and trying to shake bronchitis and an ear infection in my right ear. My right ear is my “special” ear. It receives sacred messages, and tips me off to the rest of my empathic body. Lately, I have been having blockages in my special ear and it was making me feel as if my relationship with the beauty of the divine (and music pitch) had been amiss. Instead of hearing loving sounds and whispers, I would hear Morse code tinnitus, or feel and hear painful thumps caused by drainage. What was I missing?
My ear did not, however stop my enthusiasm for listening to Rev. Chris Buice’s words of wisdom on depression and darkness during his sermon at Tennessee Valley Unitarian Universalist Church that day, nor did it stop me from sharing my insights in our church’s Tennessee Equality Project group on how to establish a Gay Straight Alliance in my son’s school. No, my spirit was definitely willing but I was fucking miserable.
After an empowering afternoon that included a visit with my best friend’s parents, the vertigo and ear pain became worse. More than that, I felt a presence around me that I felt I could not communicate with but was communicating with me, I couldn’t hear words, I couldn’t visage imagery, I couldn’t feel anything but apprehension.
As the evening at home wore on, my precious husband and I sat together and played video games when all of a sudden, painful thumps and stabbing pain began in my ear. I screamed out. I told my Eric “Someone is trying to tell me something, I can feel it. I wish I knew what it was.” I lied on his chest frightened like I used to be when I was a little girl, holding my ear, and hoping the thumping would cease. Little did I know it was a knock on the door of my soul.