Saving Grace


Last night on TNT, the new series "Saving Grace" made it's debut after much hype over the past view weeks. Snippets of LeAnn Rimes singing "Amazing Grace" have played at almost every commercial break. The hype was well worth the hour of my time to watch Holly Hunter, as Grace Hanadarko, a cop living and working in Oklahoma City.

I've long been a fan of Ms. Hunter's; she's feisty and she's fearless. She exudes an intensity that is compelling and engaging with each role she plays. I suspect "SG" is one of my new favorite shows to give up precious time to watch.

I don't usually give reviews based on movies or TV and this blog is certainly not meant to fall into that category either. What struck me as poignant about this show is that it deals with a woman, living her life - sometimes well, most of the time not - who has begun to lose faith. In the storyline, it's shown that she grew up in a Catholic family and has a brother that is a priest. In this first episode, she makes it abundantly clear that she does not believe in God, but in actuality, she really does. She's just lost faith and she's gotten angry at God for allowing some events to have played out in her life. One of which, was the death of her sister in the bombing of the federal building in Oklahoma City.

A less than "pure" angel named Earl shows up to begin the process of helping Grace find her faith. He speaks and looks like a southern redneck that found Harley's late in life. The whole time he is talking to Grace, he is spitting tobacco juice into an empty soda bottle. NOT your typical image of an angel, by any means. I've always said, God meets you on the level that is most comfortable to you. Earl is the perfect "kind" of angel to wrangle with Grace. Tough as nails and gritty.

Lately I've been discussing the loss of direction with several people very close to me. Watching the show last night brought me to an epiphany. While I feel without direction and consistently held in some sort of emotional limbo over the past year, I really already know what it is in life I am gifted for. Just because life hasn't worked it out in a form that makes that calling visible on a daily basis doesn't mean it's any less my calling.

What no one bothers to explain to you is that having faith is living without evidence of anything about 99% of the time. It's not a feeling; it's not a sign that falls magically from the sky that reads, "turn right at next street"; it's more about knowing that street is exactly where you should be and going down it without any sign. As in all things, if we go too far, we usually get a 'stop' sign of some sort. In other words, proceed with caution until you come to a stop.

Since early childhood, I have had a love and gift of words. I may not have the fancy college degree in English or know everything there is to know about grammar and punctuation, I do know I have the gift to move people with my words. For the last ten years, I've been pursuing songwriting. As my beloved partner recently said to me, I'm not really a lyricist, I'm a poet. At first I was a bit put off by his assessment but in retrospect, I think I have to agree with him. First and foremost, I AM a poet. I've been worrying that I'm not that good of a songwriter. Hopefully someone, somewhere will want to use some of the songs we've written. If they don't, does that mean I'm still not a poet? Should I stop trying? Should I feel sorry for myself? Should I blame God?

Instead of spending much of my energy worrying about my lack of direction (ie. the sign to fall from the sky), I think I am going to do what I know to do, which is write. If some of them can be used in a song, great. If they can't, then I'll find some other use for them. Maybe my friends will be the only people to ever read them. Maybe they will lie in a journal somewhere until someone at my death discovers them and decides to publish them.

My gift is words and my direction is to write - it is my saving grace.