Wednesday, April 30, 2008

The Definition Of Grace

I am not always the nicest person in the world.

I have hurt people at times in my life, both deliberately, and out of ignorance or cluelessness. I've been impatient and snippy when I needed to slow down and be kind.

I've lashed out at people who didn't deserve it. My anger towards one simple transgression carries eons of past unresolved pain. One poor person gets a tornado when all they deserved was a roll of thunder.

I've judged people before I knew them, before I spoke to them, or listened to them speak to me.

At times, I have purposely helped people. At other times, I have helped people without even knowing it, until they told me about it years later.

I have tried to learn both from my mistakes, and from the good things that I do. I try and be better every day. Sometimes I am proud of myself. Sometimes I am not.

Sometimes I hide, and let others take the stage. Sometimes I grab the stage and hold it, selfishly, for myself. Sometimes my jokes kill, and folks are rollin' in the aisles. Sometimes, not so much.

I would hope that people would see me as the sum of all parts, the complete person, who has gifts to give, and many more lessons to learn about humanity. I would hope that when I stumble, people let me know, and that I don't have my head too far up my butt to hear them.

I hope that people listen to me, and watch me, as I fumble through life, with the bigger picture in mind. That would be my definition of grace.

Because I am flawed, I hope that I can offer the same kind of grace to others who are just as flawed.

And maybe I can be just like William A. Von Hoene Jr., whose unknown, but powerful voice spoke clearly through the muck and mire, the flotsam and jetsam of relentless, sensationalist, dehumanizing news, to say something good about Reverend Jeremiah Wright.


Hungry Mother said...

I can say something nice about Rev. Wright: he has a nice smile.

kellypea said...

I did take the time to read his intelligent words. The main stream media is never interested in context that doesn't behoove their sensational way of forcing us to look at things, however. Once, I thought their persistence served a purpose. Now, it serves no one other than the company they work for in their relentless quest to sell. It makes me sick and I'm beyond tired of it all.