I spent yesterday unplugged cruising up to the great redwoods of Northern California. The sun was out, traffic was light and my mood lifted as I listened to an audiobook (Anne Patchett’s Comminwealth– two thumbs up). Very restorative. I highly recommend it. Seriously.
I wandered through the Avenue of the Giants and surrendered to the majesty of these colossal, beautiful Coastal Redwoods. I stopped to walk in their shadow. To feel humbled and restored by nature. And to try to capture their majesty in photographs. Focusing on trying to capture the right color and feeling of the scene relaxed me, although I couldn’t quite harness the calm and cool peace I felt among them.
But… then I checked into my hotel, plugged back in and started seeing the endless analysis of the election (Dems failed to turn out 7 million folks who voted for Obama, 53% of all white women voted for Trump, and, the biggest blow, Trump’s first hundred days agenda on climate, healthcare, trade and, God forbid, the Supreme Court). I felt sick, again until I remembered one of my favorite author’s sayings.
Grace bats last.
For those of you who follow Anne Lamott, you’ve surely seen this one. To be honest, this unapologetic liberal elitist doesn’t really know what that means. But I like it. Grace, it seems, defies definition. By its very nature, it is the hand of God bestowing unmerited or undeserving favor on us. It is God’s love in action toward men who merit the opposite. According to those in the know, grace delivers us from enemies, affliction and adversity, while it denotes daily guidance, clarity, forgiveness and preservation. For others, grace is the very character of God’s nature, abundant and overflowing in acts of pity, mercy, compassion and giving.
Grace bats last means she ain’t done yet. Stay tuned. There is more to come.
Please, may I have more of all that grace. And while I wait, I’m turning off the TV and internet, turning on some soothing music and studying up on how to adequately photograph the beauty and bounty of what I’m experiencing.
Boonedoggler 