In the process of writing Out of the Chute in Azalea Heights, a frivolous, insignificant story
based on just one year of my life as a child, I learned a great deal. God imparted to me some of this
understanding, discernment, comprehension, and interpretation that Solomon
harps on over and over in Proverbs.
Specifically, I learned to discern and interpret an awful
lot about mercy and grace. I’ve been
taught all my life that mercy is not receiving the punishment we deserve,
and grace is receiving the reward we don’t deserve. I learned — by way of closely relooking at
some old memories— that I have been and still am the recipient of both mercy
and grace in huge ways, both quantitatively and qualitatively. As a result, I have learned how important it
is for me to give mercy and grace to others in my path who need them.
Maybe you need, as I did, to cast out some long-held childish
notions about your parents—maybe
still alive, maybe already dead; it matters not; it’s still important— and
extend to them some mercy and grace.
I pray for you, as you journey back, that God will highlight
for you new ways to see old events that will help you shatter some preconceived
notions and let go of some long-held wrong conclusions that might have been
disturbing your peace.
C.S. Lewis said, “We will never meet a mere mortal.” This means that everyone we have ever spoken
to, argued with, cherished, or despised, is an eternal soul with one of only two very different destinies. Young, irritating, exasperating,
out-of-control punks are headed somewhere
forever. There is an all-seeing, all-knowing Great
Listener and Great Whisperer who keeps tossing out his trusty lariat in various
ways and through sundry characters. I
think He’s hoping we will allow Him to deliver us out of our frightful tendency
to bounce off one destructive fence into another one just as disastrous into
His chute of safety and peace, a sound mind, and a good future.
