Amy Rebecca Stapleton

 

The Voice of Grace

What does it sound like?

Will I know when I hear it?

Will it be strange or familiar?

Please let it come with a Southern accent, ever so slight. Not sweet, twangy or drawn like butter, but touched with kindness, soft and strong the way mama said “excuse me” not to be mistaken for a question, but rather a statement of defiance, twice as heavy as her weight.

Grace, I hope, is like that. Abundant and full like a Thanksgiving table. Wide and welcoming. Gritty and worn, not all shined up with worry about messing up but with the comfort of my favorite T-shirt.

And maybe grace has no sound, no voice at all. Maybe it is the story of what’s unspoken in her eyes when words fail.

Grace finds a way. Not pushing, but persistent, and prevenient, water flowing over the rocks slowly changing the course of the mountain stream, going before us, making a way.

Hold on. Grace is calling.

 

 

 

Amy Rebecca Stapleton dives deep and loves wide. The mountains are her true home, but currently she lives outside of Washington, DC with her partner in love and justice, their kids and dog Milo. As a poet, a United Methodist minister, and licensed professional counselor, she spends her days accompanying people through grief and trauma.