Thursday, November 22, 2012

accepting grace

It began all over again with a phone call.

Fifteen years ago today.

A boy who was the closest to my heart than anyone, had been out of my life for several years when unexpectedly he chose courage and me again.

Though I didn't accept his invitation to go out that night, I did invite him to call again.

And when he did, just weeks after I'd made the most difficult decision of my life -- feeling ashamed, confused, and beaten up -- I told him I had a secret.

     He went through every possibility to guess what it could be.
     He even named it, though I denied it.

His guessing of my sin was enough for me to think maybe he had enough grace inside of him to accept me --

     even though I... 

And so for awhile I kept hope inside and this secret tucked away, safe and sound for fear he would go away again.

A year and a half later I finally let truth be known.

Because I finally realized our togetherness wasn't safe or sound with a secret between us.

     And just as I had hoped, his response was to stay.

A secret untied and spiraled in a beautiful celebration of {grace}. 

It wasn't long until we were engaged. And hardly anyone was surprised, except for me --

     the one who carries hope so cautiously,

          as if it might plummet from my heart that holds it, crash to pieces 
               and become nothing but a waste of life. 

We hurried our wedding along. And I admit that it was all because of my fear. 

     What if he decides differently with time? 

Still, for nearly 12 years I've worn this band on my finger --  

     the ring that reminds me there is no beginning or end to love. 
     the one with a cross etched in it that reminds me of Him in us. 

It has been nearly a decade of working at our story of togetherness. 

And last night I fell apart. In the kitchen. Making dinner for us; now three from us two. 

I was almost paralyzed by fear again. 

     Of not being accepted -- for being me in all my messed up choices. 

I didn't want to choose courage and talk through details to make a decision together.

I shouted and made a mess and I just wanted to hide myself away.

But grace just looked back at me, sitting there at the table while I ranted and raved.

And even though I went to bed with this shame keeping him an arms length away, he will wake up and we'll do togetherness again.

I am accepted and loved. And overwhelmed. 

So here we are on Thanksgiving Day with all those years gone by and I choose gratitude --

     for {grace}.  
     and the courage to accept it.


You might be interested in this...

Follow A {Grace} full *life* on FacebookTwitter and Pinterest.


  1. This comment has been removed by the author.

  2. Beautiful story of staying. Accepting. Loving.

  3. Or, should I say, *being accepted* and *being loved*...and having someone stay.