A State of Grace

A State of Grace.

It’s official. Holiday season 2024 is underway. Many would say retail stores started back in September. We made it through Thanksgiving last week. Now onward to Christmas.

Do you enjoy the holidays? It’s okay to be honest. I will jump first and let you know that most of the time it fills me with dread and anxiety. 

Please do not misunderstand. As a person who attempts to follow the example of Christ, I am more than willing to celebrate his life. I love Advent. The message, the carols, candles lit on the windowsill of a church, twinkling lights everywhere. For me that is Christmas. Not the retail nightmare so many feel obligated to be a part of.

As a child I absolutely adored Christmas; what child doesn’t, right? I was always amazed at the beautifully wrapped presents with my name on them under our tree. It was torture waiting for Christmas morning to find out what hidden gem nestled inside each package.

With age, it’s no longer about gifts, but more about the message of love. This past week I was fortunate to spend time with some family and friends as we observed Thanksgiving. There was lots of laughter, fantastic food, a few games and copious memories collected. The central theme that ran throughout the long holiday weekend was love and gratitude.

Years ago, Caston and I recorded a song entitled, “State of Grace.” I wrote the lyrics, and he wrote the music. I remember the day we went to our producer’s studio to record it. I had been struggling all season with allergies. Anything respiratory related is the bane of any vocalist. I was even seeing an allergist and throat doctor at the time. I felt very insecure that day, but we had the studio time booked and you took it when you had it.

I wrote the song after a trip home to Mississippi to visit my mother and sister. At the time, I was married to my ex-husband Jerry, and I wanted him to see where I had grown up. We all piled into the car and drove the thirteen or so miles out of our small town into the country. 

My sister and mother were arguing about who still lived or didn’t live in our old community. Meanwhile, I explained to my ex the significance of each place we passed. He had grown up in Nashville, so driving through a country community was less than thrilling.

We finally slowed and passed our old homeplace. It looked the same, sort of. Our house was now owned by another family, and they had painted the shutters a different color. My grandmother’s house next door looked pretty much the same as it had after my sister remodeled it years ago. 

I was surprised when a lump formed in my throat and tears clouded my eyes. It looked like home, but it no longer felt like home. Other people lived in both houses, and I was no longer privy to all the nooks and crannies. 

On the ride back to Nashville, the lyrics of the song began to form in my mind. I wrote them down on a pad I carried. Weeks later, Caston and I were able to work it into a real song. I have attached it within the blog so you can take a listen. Enjoy!

I’ve been thinking about my mom and sister a lot in the past two weeks. As I made my mother’s pecan pie for our Thanksgiving meal, I wanted to ask her one more time what the wiggle in the center of the pie should look like before removing it from the oven. I wanted to ask my sister why she did not write down her corn souffle recipe. 

Mostly, I just wanted to be with them. They both loved Christmas with a child-like enthusiasm. A state of grace. Peace is not something given by another person or thing. It is cultivated within your own spirit. The place you go to be your true self. No pretenses, no obligations or expectations, just you.

The holidays can be difficult for many. I encourage you to find your state of grace. The big secret to life is that we are never alone. We learn separateness, but we are part of one big ALL. Each of us is needed and is valuable.

Each of us is a state of grace.