It has been one week since the middle of the night phone call; One of THOSE moments when I was wrestled away from sleep. My wife was already speaking to the person calling by the time my brain cells organized into a coherent mass. As I listened in I realized it was my son in law who called. Panic struck me. My daughter, his wife, was in her 16th week of pregnancy. She had had two miscarriages just last year. At sixteen weeks we hoped we were in the clear. But it was not so. We live a ten minute drive from their home. Blurred driving. Panicked thoughts. I was in the help mode quickly arranging all my thought and emotional life into neat little compartments so I could be available for our children and my wife in a time of crisis. Deep sorrow was staged in the wings waiting for it’s cue. We arrived. A minute or two passed before my son in law could get to us and unlock the door. Our six and four year old grandchildren were still sound asleep in their bunk beds unaware of the tragedy ...
Compassion is the pathway to mercy. Mercy is the dwelling place of grace. Grace is the divine empowerment to be who I am and to act from that identity. Grace is an unmerited gift bestowed upon me. It is available for all who seek it.