Discovery With Grace 2

II

The gift of Grace itself is private, only its overflows are sharable. Wherever you hear the words “May the Grace of the Lord be with you,” or similar be careful to ask what it means to you but engaging no one else. Those nine words are too wonderful to understand without wisdom, so I always exercise care as I receive or use them. While Grace comes in boundless forms and is unearned, it manifests in one form at a time; enduring, transient, or overlapping. People who enjoy sticky Grace have rivers of blessings flowing in their lives. Yet, Grace is enough Grace for me, my Nile. Hey! Please, I am not recklessly lustful or groundnut-oily, for even King Solomon, the wisest King in history, said three things were too wonderful; 81 and Grace sharing affection was one of them. My finding Grace was so brain sparkling and soul renewing, so wonderful. My purposeful freedom from the solitary life I bear witness to within. Continue reading

Discovery With Grace

I

Grace happened to me with a shock and rebounds like the overflowing answer to an improbable wish or prayer. And my life has reset itself for the better by Grace! I am reluctant to tell the story, but I must, to fulfil all graciousness. I consider the eleven-letter word sapiosexual a lofty prop of self-flattery coined to exclude, not bridge nor bond. A highflying word for conceited people attracted to accomplished partners and used to promote their love’s brains over incomes or social status. Wasting time on the motives for using such a word, my speculations arrived. Does the word mask a person’s desire to share in a darling’s success or are jingles of it a means to idolise intelligence when nothing else of worth exists to show? Rebuttals are welcome. However, the eleven-letter word offends my commitment to modesty and bears false witness against my many records of first-hand experiences. Besides, how does intelligence, by itself, seduce anybody, anyway? I doubt writing Schrodinger’s complete equation on napkins from memory as a party trick is sexy. Reciting John Milton’s Paradise Lost backwards without error isn’t either. Intelligence is neither visible nor tangible by itself. Only its rewarding outputs we experience in life are open to appreciation, not love. So why did Grace happen to me? Continue reading