66, Grace

Grace
4 October 1824
Yesterday, after I wrote my last entry, the women began preparing the Saturday evening meal.  Another steer was slaughtered, thankfully away from the camp, and brought in for us to cook in various ways.  I helped with the stew, as that is something that I am getting proficient at.   I was able to use the vegetables that we had brought from our garden, including potatoes, corn, green beans, carrots, and onions.  The other meals were completed before our stew was, and they were served first to those who had first gathered at five o’clock.    Our stew was ready by six.  John, Nan, Joseph, and the Terrys all came about that time, I believe out of kindness to me.  It was a kind thing for them to do, and they were rewarded with what I believe to be one of the finer meals of the evening, humble though it was. 
By seven, we had all gathered again for the evening services.  Reverend Samuel Patton, who will be leaving soon for the Choctaw Nation on mission, gave the sermon.  He spoke of Jesus on the cross, and the difficult times that had faced him that preceded.  The main part that I remember, that struck me like a lightening bolt, was that Jesus was able to forgive at the very worst time of his life.  He forgave the soldiers who were gambling for his clothing.  He forgave the criminals on the crosses on either side of him.  He forgave the religious leaders who mocked him, and the crowds who were blaspheming him, all while he was enduring great pain and was dying.  His thoughts were for them.
I am not Jesus.  But I can learn from this great man, this Son of God.
I am powerfully moved, almost beyond words.
Where does that leave me?  I have softened my view of Father.  I can see that he has changed, and that he is trying to do better.  I know that he seeks forgiveness, and I suspect that he does not believe that he will receive it from me or from TJ.  But I have had time to think of John’s questions to me.  And I believe that it is time that I faced Father, and that I ask him some of those questions.  I would like to forgive without asking him.  I do not think Jesus would have asked if my father was no longer drinking, or if he remembers doing what he did.  I believe that Jesus would have just forgiven him, and would have believed that Father knew not what he was doing.  I am not sure about that, though. But then I remember is that we are not to judge.  That is for our Father in Heaven to do.  If that is true, then I must forgive. 
This morning we again had our Love Feast.  It was so much the sweeter that John and my brothers joined me and my sister and the Terrys with such lovely singing in four-part harmony.  I often forget the scriptures and the other things within a service or within a Class Meeting, but oh! I love the hymns so much.  Reverend Terry has a guitar that he plays with us.  We are luckier than many of the other small groups to have him because of it, and we are especially lucky that, save poor Joseph, we all can sing fairly well.
We will be staying here until Monday, as it is considered work to take down the camp and go back home on the Sabbath.  We are having an extended social time this afternoon which permits me to write this, while also having time with my Dear Heart.  He is nearby, reading from the Bible as he is wont to do.  Can I say that I love him?  For I do.  With everything that I am, with every part of me, from my head to my heart, to my hands and to my feet.  I believe that even my hair loves him!  I know that my eyes and lips do.  And I believe that he loves me.  And that, is truly a wonderment to me. 
I am filled with Grace.