Waiting for Grace

A couple weeks ago, I couldn't shake the feeling that something really bad was going to happen. Didn't know what or how, just that something bad was coming.

I'm in it, now.  It's not anything  I could have predicted, and really, there's not much I could have done in any case. There's a certain level of peace that comes with that.

But the other side of the coin is that sheer terror that comes with the realization that I may now be living my new normal, which comes with incapacitating pain.

I'm not a afraid of the pain; I'm afraid of the spiritual and emotional erosion that comes with it. And of course, there's always the fear that I am no where near as bad as it's going to get.

So today, with my shoulder singing its siren song, I found myself telling my kindergarteners that I was waiting for grace. I have a Grace in the room, and she asked why I was waiting for her.

So I found myself describing what it felt like to have my arm in a sling (they did ask), and while I talked, I reflected on the what and why of pain, what lessons there are to be learned, and finding grace and peace in the spaces between the pain.

Somehow, I feel like I have leveled up to a whole new set of challenges. And I pray to be equal to them.