August 22, 2007
I bought a polished rock for myself today – an unusual occurrence, certainly. The stone is half white, half gray, with the word “grace” carved into its surface. I don’t even think grace is well-represented by a hunk of mineral. Grace is too encompassing and fluid, maybe more rightly equated with the ocean. But I was contentedly running an errand that would have reduced me to a quivering puddle of grief and misery not long ago. Carefully choosing from the rose quartz displayed without violently despising myself. This is grace. I carried the comforting knowledge (and stone) with me all day.