Writing about this life is an endless endeavour. In fact, everything that has ever been written is or was about this life. Life can be experienced in falsehood, and thus cause us much pain. Life can also be lived in truth and thereby bestow upon the living great pleasure. This life is a gift, which, if not properly viewed, is a slap in the face of the living. For, is not this life the wellspring of so much heartache and suffering? Don’t we have sufficient amounts of writings that show this to be true? And, don’t we also all have severe experiences that teach us this very thing? Life is a gift from God, it says, and yet, how hard is it to believe this? My name actually means, gift of God, and yet how much did I struggle to accept this as truth? Until today, which is appropriate as it is my Birthday. Until now, I have received no gifts whatsoever. Yes, I have a long held animosity towards my Birthdays, for how should I enjoy them if I don’t agree with it’s outcome, which is the gift of my life? So, the realization hit me right between the eye today: Accepting my life as being a true gift is only possible if I also accept the other gift of God, which is grace. God’s grace has a face and a name, sounding very much like a Mexican man. Imagine having a compass in life, but one which has no needle. Pretty useless in finding one’s way around. The intricate connection between the gift of life and the gift of grace is giving my life direction and begins to bring order in a seemingly random existence. Yes, this life has a happy ending, I am on my way, and on it there are several markers to assure me that I am on the right path. Without grace, I would never make it there. This much I know.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “No Cliffhangers.”