It’s the phrase I resort to when trying to describe what life has been like since becoming Catholic more than 20 years ago. It’s still new and fresh, and I am kept afloat by an effort not my own. That’s why I say I’m swimming in grace.
The evening we were received into the Church, we gained a new freedom, a new confidence, a new status by which we lay claim to the riches of the Church. We were inundated with God’s love, mercy, and unmerited favor.
I have felt, at times like I was treading water and sometimes even succumbed to weariness and sank down, but never beyond the reach of grace, for the death was with and in Christ, like that symbolized by baptism, and I came back up refreshed and eager to invite others to the life-giving waters we’ve found.
Doug and I swim together, praying the Liturgy of the Hours consistently, with choreographed movements that highlight the love between us making it possible for our love to be taken up into the love of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
When we die we’ll be buried, but not forgotten, at least not until a couple of generations have passed. Even when our names are no longer remembered on earth, we will cheer on our progeny from heaven looking forward to the end of time when God will be all in all.