GRAPES AND PEAS
Grapes and peas. We’ve eaten them all, so I’ve put them on the shopping list. Jennifer says we should eat plenty of fruits and vegetables. Jennifer has been visiting our local Longview Public Library and she says they are necessary for good health, especially brain health as we age.
I need some other things, too. I’m out of grace and peace. Good amounts of grace and peace keep the temperament balanced and the soul healthy. But I won’t be finding them at the grocery store.
Where can I get some grace and peace? Some people have them. I wonder where they get these precious commodities from. Do they get them from Jesus? I believe they do. After all, the rain falls on the just and the unjust. God pours His blessings on all kinds of people, whether they know the source or not, just as I may pick up food from the grocery store, not knowing whether it came from the Okanagan or California.
I am sure Irene Neame got her grace and peace from Jesus. Her face was etched with cancer pain, but I saw through that to her grace and peace as she coaxed beautiful cadences and harmonies from us at choir practice.
Judith Tipp also got her grace and peace from Jesus. She was just a child when I knew her, but she had a quiet firm assurance and willingness to connect with people of any age. I wonder where in the world, or the world beyond, she is now?
And then there’s Michael McCann, my neighbour. He has grace and peace, too. He has time for you, just to exchange a smile and connect in conversation, and a prayer when times are stressful.
However, this morning, I am not full of grace or peace. Each family member seems distant and uncaring. I feel alone and vulnerable. But, you know, it isn’t them. It’s me! There’s something I’ve been putting off, something important to me. And that “something” is niggling at me. I didn’t realize it, but I am the one who’s tetchy. The deadline for submitting my article to The High Country News is this weekend, and I have no idea what to write about. Of course, I don’t have to send in an article. Lowell doesn’t make me write. I write because I want to.
Truth is, by scribbling thoughts on a piece of scrap paper this morning, I have found peace. I may or may not send this piece to Lowell, but I have done the thing that I was putting off and I have found peace. Perhaps, now, I can be gracious to those around me.
And, I am free! I will get in my car, drive to my favourite grocery store and get some grapes and peas.
by Andrea Kidd
