Sometimes I ask a question, and the answer comes wrapped in astonishment.
Over several weeks, a layer of melancholy seemed to cling to me that I couldn't strip off my mind, like transparent strands of spider webbing. I wrote in my journal. Prayed. "God, peel back this film of misery. Give me a key to open the door." At the bottom of the page I'd drawn a key.
A few nights later I dreamed. In the dream, I discovered a locked door with a large keyhole. When I peered hrough the opening, I observed a glimmering sea, the sun spangling and dancing over the water. I wanted to unlock the door, but I didn't have the key. I heard in my mind, "Turn toward grace." A key materialized in my hand. I placed it in the keyhole, and the door swung open. I awakened.
There was my answer. "Turn toward grace." But what did that really mean?
As I pondered the definition of what the phrase meant for me, I came up with the following:
~Lean into the pure, unabashed belief that God is for me--God's love is not about performance-based acceptance.
~Trust that circumstances do not define my life, but rather be glad that no matter what is happening, there is room to rejoice and be thankful. God is my provider and entirely engaged with my process. I can expect His favor, wisdom, protection and guidance.
~I live under the sound of His laughter and excitement for me. He delights to fill me, overflowing and brimming with energy and joy. He loves to see me smile.
I am getting better at using this "grace" key. When I don't know what to think or do or say, I can almost feel that key in my palm. When I place the key in the lock, I hear the door click open. I step over the threshold into grace. My head clears. I gaze into the horizon and inhale the tang of salt. The whispering ocean envelops me.