Nudges and Graces
It was a lovely day in lower Alabama with a vibrant picturesque blue sky and moderate winter temperatures. In a phone conversation with a friend, we agreed it was an ideal day for a walk. Preparing for my first Christmas without my mother, my friend knew I dreaded the approaching holiday weekend, and gently encouraged me to enjoy the outdoors by going for a walk.
Having been taking walks for less than three months, I was aware of the emotional and spiritual benefits of the practice. Even so, there are times when it takes an extra effort to move beyond my inner resistance and the recliner. This was one of those days. My friend’s encouragement continued to ring in my ears after the call ended. Life has taught me there are times when the Great Spirit speaks to us softly through the words of others – nudging us to act. I took a deep breath before dressing and began the day’s walk.
Beginning each walk, I wonder about my distance. As a novice walker, I am proud to have done 3.9 miles on at least two days. My goal is to reach five miles in January. On this day, each time I considered turning around to head home, I decided to go a bit further. Reaching my one and a half mile point, I surprisied myself by deciding to go for two miles before turning. This would be my first four-mile walk. Realizing my pedometer showed a questionable figure, I pushed myself to go a further distance so as to insure making four miles by the time I reached home. When the pedometer finally did read two miles, I paused before turning to begin my journey home.
Singing to celebrate the day’s walk, I began to notice new growth on a few of the barren trees. Then, I was startled when my eyes caught a glimpse of red. It seemed to disappear as quickly as I had seen it. Some native plants occasionally have a few red leaves. Maybe that is what caught my attention. I stopped walking and focused on finding the red. There it was. It was not a few leaves but a cluster of red berries on a bush. I carefully crossed into the overgrown plants to get close enough to touch them, to feel their weight in my hand.
For me the red berries in the midst of winter’s gray reminded me of the graces we can experience even in periods of grief – graces reminding us of God’s presence in ways which we may overlook. The primary grace of Christmas for me is Emmanuel -- God Is With Us. It is the very same grace that carried us through the first Christmas without Daddy a decade ago, and the one carrying us through this holiday weekend. Seventy years ago, in 1951, it was Emmanuel accompanying Mama through her first Christmas without her mother.
God Is With Us is not restricted to the Season of Christmas. Emmanuel is ever present even in the ordinary times which narrate most of our days. Knowing God Is With Us does not mean we will not mourn when a loved one passes as those feelings are part of the human experience, but it does assure us of God’s Compassionate Presence always. The dread before me as I spoke with my friend almost prevented me from responding to the Spirit’s nudge offered by her. Had I not, I would have not experienced the sight and weight of the red berries, nor would I have managed to complete a walk of 4.6 miles.