Glimpses of Grace

Last week, I was driving in an area of town where the route I have stored in my memory cannot be relied upon since there are multiple construction projects going on. One of the projects inconveniently closed my side road, so I had to turn left onto a busy street, which also had one of its two lanes closed, so traffic was backed up for quite a ways.

I wasn't waiting long at the stop sign before a considerate driver in the waiting queue provided room for me to make my turn. I waved to thank him, pulled forward, looked right, looked again, and pulled out into the roadway. As I completed my turn someone in a black car had to swerve into the other lane to get out of my way. Why I didn't see them when I looked, I don't know; perhaps they'd pulled onto the street from one of the nearby parking lots after I'd checked for cars. (That's my story, anyways, and I'm sticking to it.)

No collision, no honks, no harm, no foul. 'Just' a near miss.

The incident got me to thinking about the grace inherent in near misses. I long remember the crashes, the broken whatsits, the lost items. But the near collisions, the crystal glass miraculously caught before it crashed onto the quartz countertop, the favorite gloves that were under the seat after all, just pushed to the side - memories of these tend to fade quickly once the moment passes.

In my experience, that's how Grace operates. It doesn't draw attention to itself in a cacophony of breaking glass and crunching fenders. Rather, it quietly steps in, does what it came to do, and withdraws on silent cat feet, leaving behind only the caress of its blessing, a faint impression of a hug.

I've been watching for the near misses this week; I've caught more glimpses of Grace's presence than I'd anticipated I would. Many days, these days, my life feels a bit skimpy in the caresses and hugs category,  and the touches of love have been most welcome; they have soothed the raw edges of my quietly lonely soul just a bit. *grateful sigh*

Grace Is.