The way is speaking as grace is consuming me
What is grace?
Grace holds the power to make you courageous enough to do the hard things in life. One of those hard things is to see the world, and its people, without judgment.
But…What is grace?
Defined by the dictionary it’s seen as many things. Some without any mention of an outside source, without mention of something beyond your human existence. It speaks of elegance, courtesy, charming, favoured, dignity, and being dignified in how we show up and treat others. The Merriam-Webster dictionary says (and I quote the exact words)
“The synonym of grace is: unmerited divine assistance given to humans for their regeneration or sanctification. A virtue coming from God. A state of sanctification enjoyed through divine assistance.”
Of course, there is all the other words and language.
What is grace in my heart?
Love. The ability to love through the images being presented to us. Beyond the judgment lies deeper truths.
The Presence of Grace
While on tour in Newfoundland I had a profound experience. Not at the Mediumship events as part of my tour, or with the people attending the events, but on the corner of where Water Street and George Street meet. It was here that I witnessed the power of grace on the crosswalk that has left an imprint upon my soul that I now forever see when I close my eyes.
I met grace in the form of a human who appears to have lost all dignity. Who some would say, has no self respect. But that’s what we see when our eyes still hold the judgment of seeing so clearly what others are doing as so wrong.
I was walking around in the misty rain close to our hotel in St. John’s with a good friend who had accompanied me on tour. We were under the threat of an oncoming rainstorm, yet the air was still and warm. Mist filled the air, and all was quiet, but noisy. A paradoxical moment of the illusions of life. I was looking for just the right place to get some good old Newfie food. My head was thinking something with fish, fries, dressing, and gravy.
As we walked something stopped me in my tracks. We had circled back to a place we had passed a few times, but this time was the right time and what I would come to know later was to be divine time, as we choose to enter the doors at the Yellow Belly Brewery & Public House in St. John’s.
Sitting down with determination to have a traditional Newfoundland meal, the menu turned out to not quite offer what I originally had in mind. With the help of a lovely waitress who suggested a fig and arugula firestone cooked pizza, I heard myself agree with the choice. Normally I would never order pizza! When it arrived my words were, “This is enough to feed three more people!”
Eating only a slice and a half of the pizza I requested a box and with a joy in my heart, for probably the best pizza I had ever eaten, decided I would bring it back to the hotel room to enjoy later. What happened next was where I met courage revealed as grace. A grace that touched my soul like never before. Why this experience was so different I am still unsure of as I have met and helped many a person in this situation before. But something about this particular moment has left an imprint on my soul.
Crossing the road at Water Street and George was a woman with the bluest of eyes whose beauty still revealed itself through her pain and battered and beaten down appearance. On the crosswalk she came out of nowhere. Vulnerable, frail, and in total surrender to her situation. She asked for my food. She was hungry. Her desperate tone was cracking through her voice as she in her humility was begging for someone to give her food. She was very aware that the response could go either way. She was aware of the glares from others and disgusted energy that was present in the unspoken energy, but she asked for my food anyway.
Without a thought, or second guessing of if I should or should not, I handed her the box and my response to her was, “Yes my love, absolutely you can have the food!” It was out of my mouth before my mind had time to think or connect. She looked at me and instantly I saw her soul thanking me. I felt the divine in that split second enter my heart and as she was also gifted the food from my companion, I could feel the gratitude. In the next moment she was then gone, and I could feel the trail of shame that followed her moment of courage while in a state of grace.
Crossing to the other side, I could hear a woman’s voice calling out to us. As she stopped us, I thought she would say that we shouldn’t have fed her. I was prepared with my defensive response, but it was not to be. She was an angel on earth, a guardian angel in some way to this woman. She filled us in on her story. How a week before this woman was sitting in the spot where we stood, beaten so bad her body was black and blue. This woman spoke of her with such compassion and how she was someone’s daughter. She supplies her with clothing, blankets, sanitary products, and food. She said this woman doesn’t ask for much and is always thankful. She thanked us for being kind. Yet, all we really did was hand over our leftovers.
The ego instantly wanted to run, find her and do more, but I knew in that moment all was exactly as it was supposed to be. Anything else would be done from pity and that beautiful soul didn’t want pity, she was the teacher of grace. It’s simply not as pretty in action as one may think. Virtues in action are not perfection, they are pure. It’s the vices of the need to satisfy something inside of ourselves that waters down the purest expression of divine grace.
We are always being guided and tested. Tested to see who we are when no one is looking. On that day, I clearly saw my action was not an action of grace, it was just an action that comes with answering a call to meet the request. I was simply the vessel being used to announce the young lady’s soul’s request. A request received to be in the spot of clear vision of the hungry woman to allow grace to consume her, propelling her towards me to collect the pizza I had obviously ordered for her and I. She was in return the messenger of the power of grace. The other lady was the Earth Angel who is still there watching over her long after we were gone.
Since that moment I have come to know grace in a whole new light.
I chuckle at how little control I have over some of the choices I make while living simply as the bamboo shoot. The vessel for the light of the divine to find its way to respond to the soul’s request while living inside of these human meat suits. Grace requires a total surrender as humility becomes our greatest teacher. That blue-eyed lady needed to eat, and she had to rise up from her hiding in her not so dignified self to greet me, woman to woman, and ask for my help. It takes a lot of courage to stay alive while in the most desperate situations.
I ask for grace to consume me in all that I do. To always remember that all that we think we are is a construct of our minds. All that we think others are, is also a construct of our mind’s ability to create a story that comes to life in actions, behaviours, judgments and choices.
Who will you see when you see someone asking for help, and what will you think?
Who do you see when you have to ask for help, and what are you thinking?
Grace has no judgment. It is elegant. It is soft. It holds an integrity like no other. Grace opens from within and connects to the infinite source, to God. Grace keeps hope alive.
The blue-eyed lady has a force within her that’s fighting for her, keeping her going, because what if the day comes that she gets well.
What if…
Much Love,
Corrie Thorne-Cameron