Saving Grace

I watched the final programme in the Saving Grace series on TNT and it made me think about evil. The plot of the series, if you haven't been watching, is that there is a cop in Oklahoma City, by the name of Grace, whose sister died in the bombing. Grace is a wild woman who can find no comfort in the ordinary things in life. She is on a road that takes her from bar to bar and man to man. When loves enters her life she hides. When she is hurt she drinks. When she is weary she finds a man to bed. Enter Earl. An angel. Literally. He listens to Grace, tries to understand why he has been sent to her and offers her the comfort of wisdom as she tries to find the road for herself.

The cop aspect of the programme and the family side are interesting but the central part of the story line is about Grace and the course that God may have for her. Earl knows God, after all he is an angel, but he doesn't know why he is with Grace other than to try and save her.

Spoiler alert:
He doesn't. Grace has Evil enter her life in the form of a writer whom she realises was around in 1915 and who kills people she cares about. A little imagination is required here from the reader. In the final episode she blows the writer and herself to smithereens without damaging a pile of mail sent to her by people who believe she is an angel herself.

So my thoughts turned to evil. When I was a kid parents tended to take their children to church, in its various manifestations, in order for children to learn that there is a God, he is Almighty and He is Watching. Hell is lurking and damnation is an action away. The 10 Commandments were to be listened to, learnt and obeyed. So we sat in the pews. Went to confirmation classes, ate the bread and drank the wine ... and walked out of church free of obligations to return.

I am not a believer in the Big Stick approach to morals. Hell may exist but it is far away from the now. Heaven is an equal distance. We are right here, in the now. What we chose to do with that is independent of anyone other than ourselves. We are influenced, bribed, cajoled, encouraged, thrust towards a course of action but at the end of the day unless you are holding a loved one hostage I make the decisions for myself. Yes I know we aren't so self conscious that we examine every single little choice that we make. I am talking about the big ones. The ones that make you pause. The ones that make you look in the mirror and blink.

My mother was not one who chattered on about things that might have made her uncomfortable. She tended to prefer the simpler, less complicated things in life as conversation topics. When I was about fourteen she said something to me that stuck in my mind.
"You always wake up with yourself!"
At the time I thought the comment was trite. Of course you do. We all know that. Over the years the meaning of it sunk home. It has slowly become a guiding principle for my life. I have spent many a morning wishing that I had remembered it before I spoke my mind to another and hurt them. Before I trotted out some promise that I never kept. Before I passed judgment on something I barely understood. I don't always keep to it. I forget it when I am angry and when I am hurt. I like to think that it is in my parcel of good intentions that I act upon but I know that there are many times when the early morning light shows me a reflection that I don't like.

No one travels with you the way you do with yourself. If you are honest with yourself I find that you tend to be honest with others. It might not make me comfortable but I try to see myself a little more clearly as I grow older. I can no longer hide behind youth. Excuses of intent versus action tend to grow weaker when you find yourself confronting mortality. I see in others more good and love and kindness than I ever have before. There is much to aspire to. Much to fail at. In Anne Bouwer I see generosity of spirit and time and immense kindness and love. In Tim I find a gentle reflection of how the world can be when you hold it gently in your hands. In Bryan I find myself looking for laughter and finding it. In Kirsty I see deep, abiding love that is a well of strength for all that she shows in small, and big acts of kindness. Stephanie shows me beauty in ways I have not seen and reminds me that we are never truly alone in the world when we have people who love and care for us. David brings me hope and gladness that I have traveled with him and share my life and love with him. In Maude I see strength of faith revealed in acts. In Esme and Hilde dear friendship that crosses oceans and allows me to be myself. And in so many others there are acts of gentleness, beauty and love that make me realise that when I feel that I have lost my grace I have others to hold onto.

I hear it in bird song at 4.30 am, I see it in the reflection of the sky in a lake, I touch it in the earth and I am blessed to see grace in those who surround me.