Grace is a tightrope I think I must walk every day. It means one more day of being alive. And given the mercurial nature of the universe, being alive is not guaranteed.
I think about people who have died and about those who have been spared. There is no pattern that I can see. It seems all too random. It seems that we either live because of grace or die for some arbitrary reason.
It’s a concept I have trouble coming to terms with. In a perfect world, a person’s value to the larger community of man would dictate the disposition of grace. It doesn’t seem to.
It’s not a perfect world, and maybe I don’t understand the true concept of grace.
I have more questions than I have answers.
And maybe that’s a good thing, the way it should be. It keeps me questioning, thinking and trying to make sense of this mess of a world.
Not that I can solve the world’s problems. I’m no where near that ambitious.
I just want to understand my own little corner of it.
And why bad things happen to good people.
If I came up with a real answer to that one, I could sell more books than any jingoistic motivational speaker.
Until I get further, I’ll just keep on wondering why and living on God’s good grace.
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