We were talking about God. We were talking salvation. We were talking grace. Two of us being partakers, one not so so, the other openly Atheist but we were talking God. We were not arguing, no, we are friends. We were talking with a level of honesty that alcohol seems to bring forth.
At first, I held my tongue, feeling like so much ground work was needed for such a discussion to be fruitful. I was too conscious of our differences and prejudices. I do not know how it happened, but it was almost like how Jeremiah says there is a fire shut up in his bones (was it Jeremiah who said that?) or when He said the word of the Lord was like burning coals in his mouth. There was a discussion about changes and actions and being good...that is when I spoke up
|I even tweeted about it|
That is when I spoke up about grace and where grace found me, about journeys and how it is not neccessarily always black and white. About how even the seemingly worst person on earth has a father in heaven who is still rooting for him, wanting him home. A while back, I wrote about journeys, my journey in and outside church society and this is one more on the list of the most unconventional of places I've seen God. Almost drunk at a bar talking about His goodness and still hearing Him reveal things that I wouldn't have otherwise known.