Simply Grace

My life has run the gamut of every possible human emotion in the last year, but none have been felt so deeply as grief. I guess I used to think that grief was a word that only applied to death, but over the course of a year I have learned that there is more to death than simply the soul leaving the body on it's way to an eternity spent with it's creator or the one it fought daily on this earth.
In my own life, I have experienced a death of childhood. I feel up until this season of my life, I was living just as I did as a child. I didn't question those around me, and had a simple faith, as well as an air of naivety that could only be described as, well, naive.
In this loss of childhood, I also grieved trust. Trust in myself, as well as trust in others. What used to be an unabashed faith in my own judgement has now been replaced with questioning every decision at every turn. On one hand, this is a step forward for me. I am much less prone to stepping off into the unknown because I did first, thought later. In the other, I rather enjoyed just doing something, and debating the merits of it later, which is where the grief comes in. It hurts immensely at times to make decisions that involve emotional toil. To look at everyone around me and ask myself not only how said decision will affect me, but also the circle of people I surround myself with. My faith in humanity as a whole has also been shaken. Not broken, just a bit cracked. In a former life, I trusted blindly, always believing that everyone around me had my best interest at heart. I was under the foolish impression that the world really did revolve around me, at least, my small corner of the world did. Because I have always considered myself a giving, kind, wonderful person (humble as well), I simly assumed so was everyone else. In the past year, I have learned many things about myself and the world around me. I have learned that I am not so giving, kind, and most especially, not so wonderful. I have learned that the world does not, in fact, revolve around me. Realizing these things about myself was indeed a type of death. A death of a self-view that, although healthy as a child, was actually quite destructive as an adult.
I have also experienced the type of grief that does come with literal death. I am, as I write, grappling with the emotions associated with this kind of grief. My emotions, on a daily basis, seem to be sky high, then basement low at the drop of a hat. I lose control of these emotions and struggle to get them back under control. At the slightest mention of death, the tears start flowing, and it's all I can do to keep them at a trickle, not a sob. I sat through the movie, Atonement, which I loved, but simply lost it at the end. My mom called to give me news of a friend with cancer, and my mind races to the end...when truly it is only the beginning of a long battle. I realize that I am trying to control things I cannot control. My heart is hurting, my mind is reeling with questions, and my raw emotion should take precedence for a time over my usual outward show of happiness.
Grief.
It comes in so many fashions, and we each wear it differently. The common thread that runs throughout each of our personal grievances is a word that to me, means the complete opposite of grief.
Grace.
Grace in a time of need, in a time where I feel my soul has been scrubbed raw and left bleeding and naked, yet clean, on a podium for all around me to see. A time when I hear the small, yet persistant voice of God offering what I need most, grace. To me, there are so many other words wrapped up in that small one.
Love, comfort, forgetfullnes, compassion, beauty, balance, mercy, reprieve.
What I have come to know, is that this word is something offered so freely to me, but that I must choose to accept in each area of my life. I am not as wonderful as I once thought, but in accepting grace, I can strive to do wonderful things. I can make a difference in others' lives, by taking what I've been offered, and pouring it out for others. A simple concept, but one I've only recently started applying to myself. Others around me don't always have my best interest at heart, but I can accept that due to grace, and it was only in having to accept it myself was I able to extend it to others. In my pain, my distress, my crying out, I have to take that comfort, that compassion, and in my darkest moments, in amidst all the questions, I have realized that when I accept what is offered to me the pain lessens, the demons quiet, and I truly am comforted.
That is not to say that I don't still have days where even getting out of bed is hard, because I would rather lie there and wallow in my own self pity. Or days where I am scared my past sins will come back to haunt me and the life I have built will crumble and again leave me standing in shambles. Days that I don't fight with Satan and let him win battles I so long to overcome.
I am thankful for the grace that has been bestowed upon me. By my maker, and also those around me. Those who I have scarred purposely, and for those who have been caught in the aftermath of my recklessness. And grace from those who know me, truly know me, and yet would still argue that I am, in fact, a little wonderful.