Watching my daughter practice piano day after day, I can
only describe what I see as nothing short of graceful. I could bask in this
sunbeam of her for hours upon hours, if she would allow me. Mesmerized by her
heart and mind extending out through her fingertips and fill the air not just
with a collection of captivating notes, but with something it lacked before;
something like insurmountable joy and hope, I find that her music breathes life
into our home in a way other things cannot. Unfathomable joy ushers in completeness;
rivaling other elations I cherish, like uncontrollable giggles of children or
the slipping away of the sun’s brilliant radiance at the end of a long summer
day. Her music steadies and comforts my soul. It’s not about the songs she
plays, but the passion, intention, and purpose all filtered through her sieve,
or soul, of tenderness. Her character is meek and her gentleness can be felt
even in the forte of whatever song she chooses to play.
Grace is motion; it is movement. It is not without purpose,
determination, or strength. And as I think about the different things I have assigned
grace to, things like pirouetting ballerinas, the sweeping motion of an eagles’
wings, the glide of ice skaters, Meg’s piano playing… I have realized how much
I have misunderstood a colossal part of grace. Grace is not light of touch or
wispy like stratus clouds or soft like velvety bunnies, and yet somewhere along
the line we have always assigned grace as such—an elegant tenderness; but this
is what grace resembles once reflected off the One who placed it within us to
begin with. When I sit back and think about the intentional placement of
the pianist’s fingers, the dedication needed to master a melody, the strength,
determination, energy both necessary and required to share a piece of themselves
in this way, it baffles my mind. Grace is intentional. Grace is a practiced,
quiet strength. It is led by determination to go beyond the expected. Grace is
the active expression of Christ’s love through us (Col. 3:4, paraphrased).
In His book, The Ragamuffin Gospel, Brennan Manning pens the
profound, yet simple words that reside deep within my own heart: “My deepest
awareness of myself is that I am deeply loved by Jesus Christ and I have done
nothing to earn it or deserve it”. When we experience the goodness of Christ in
our lives, that is grace. That is His immeasurable strength, determination,
intention, and unconditional love and acceptance for us-- and through us. I am
completely humbled day in and day out at how much I desperately need Christ’s
grace and I am completely grateful (and baffled) for the fact that His grace is
not just enough for me, but more than enough so that I, in turn, have excess grace
to share with others. Grace requires strength that surpasses ours, enduring practice,
and deliberate intention. Often, we are called to exhibit grace to those who
have hurt us, sinned against us, or the unlikable. On our own, we will feel
uncomfortable and unqualified. Out of the overflow of what has already been
given to us, and a reliance on Christ’s strength, not ours, we intentionally
practice grace over and over again. And in the crazy, hectic-ness of life where
life is so loud, grace abounds. Grace in Forte!
I love that I have the honor and privilege to watch Christ
express Himself through Meg in her music. She is a beautiful expression of the
love of Christ.
