What if I met Grace, by chance, along the path?

Would He know my name, or call my name, even though His smile beams through?

Would His tenderness, dip to my soul, in wondrous untold ways, as He reaches out and rests His hand, upon my wearied arm?

And though I’m running late again, would I simply scurry by, or somehow pause with a curious mind, to discover His good gifts?

What if I met Grace today, by chance, along the path?

And on that path, would I surrender the heavy bag I’m carrying, or scuttle past this Grace of mine, with labour unremitting?

Would there be a touch of peace, if Beauty’s gaze caught my shy glance?  Or would my stone-cold heart sink down, as I stiffly ploughed my path?

The thoughts keep reeling in my mind, my agenda tucked close by; yet shallow breath has still not slowed, though now the sun dips low.

What if I met Grace today?

The whisper seems more urgent.

Would my frail heart choose to give-way, to human heaves and sobs?

With Grace enough, to wash away, these bloodied wounds of mine?

What if I met Grace today?


For the sake of thriving,