This poem was written in the hospital, the morning of my mother’s passing. These words came to me as a prayer:

Gods grace. 

I say it, I pray it. 

What am I saying. 

What do I mean? 

Do I just repeat it?

Is it just a habit. A phrase. 

So available. Freely given. 

It’s not free 

Costly. 

Grace-perfect in all its nature. 

Having to give all. 

Grace- Blood was shed 

It cries it is finished. 

Grace- Wrapped in cloth.

Sealed the tomb. 

Grace Rolled the stone away

Conquered death 

Grace Gave command 

To believe. 

Choose to follow and to know. 

Does grace protect or provide. 

Grace to live 

Grace to die. 

Grace to breathe. 

Grace to rise. 

Grace to love

Grace to grieve. 

Grace to feel 

Grace to numb 

Grace is no. 

Grace is yes. 

Things are uncertain. 

No one knows tomorrow. 

Is grace enough until the bitter end?

Until I see your face 

Until I am made whole. 

The one thing I cling to

Is Gods grace.