all is grace

when we don't resist it

“Grace is just the natural loving flow of things when we allow it, instead of resisting it.”
— Richard Rohr

In April of 2013, four years into being a photographer, I made a mistake that I thought would end my career. It all started when a group of friends and I were planning for with a short vacation to Puerto Rico. The earliest everyone could leave was on a Wednesday. April is usually when the wedding season is in full bloom and I had a wedding to photograph that Sunday morning. We were deciding on when we should fly back, the responsible choice being Friday.

“But, then we’d only stay there for one full day?
That feels like a waste doesn’t it?
I mean, the flight back to New York is only four hours!
And we’ll be in the same time zone!
If I get back by Saturday evening, I’ll have plenty of time to rest and be ready to photograph the wedding.”

So we decided, on my insistence, to stay the extra day and leave on Saturday. The vacation was great and we arrived at the airport Saturday afternoon sunburnt and relaxed. As we were checking in, we found out our flight would be delayed a few hours. The attendant at the counter assured us the flight wasn’t canceled, we’d just be getting to New York at 10pm not 7pm.

“No biggie. That’s still plenty of time.
I’ll be tired but I know what I’m doing.
I’ve photographed dozens of weddings till now, I’ll be fine.”

We went to get some dinner while waiting, and when we got back we boarded the plane. An hour later we hadn’t left the gate.

“This is the captain speaking, sorry for the delay folks. We’ve been trying to fix a piece of equipment here, but unfortunately it’s broken and there is no replacement part here in San Juan. So we are going to have to ask everyone to deplane.
There’s another plane that’s en route and we will get you on there as soon as possible.”

“Uhhhhh, ok, well, at least there’s a plan to leave tonight.
The flight’s not canceled. They said it wouldn’t be canceled.
It’ll be ok.
I’ll get home tonight. I’ll sleep on the plane.
It’ll be ok.”

After waiting another few hours, we were getting ready to board when we were told we didn’t have a flight crew. Apparently flight crews can’t work more than a certain number of hours per shift and with all the delays they would reach their limit while on route to NYC. They needed to rotate in a new crew, but there wasn’t one available in San Juan. 

The plane was working but the flight crew wasn’t.The flight was canceled.

The next one will be in the morning at 6AM. By the time I got back, went home, packed my things, and got to the venue, the wedding would be half way done.

A recurring nightmare I’ve had as a student was one of me frantically studying 30 minutes before a final for a class I forgot to attend all semester. I flip through the textbook, scanning each page, trying to learn, memorize, and make up for what I didn’t do, all the while with a nauseous pit in my stomach of futility and panic.

When I became a photographer the nightmare mutated into me frantically packing and driving to a photoshoot that’s starting in 30 minutes, but would take me two hours to get there. Same blitz of effort, begging time to slow down, trying to make up for my mistake, all the while knowing it’s useless.

I’ve managed to wake up right before the gut punch moment of failure. I’d reassure myself it was just a dream and comfort myself back to sleep. 

“Wait, this isn’t a dream. I’m not sleeping.
I can’t make myself wake up.
This is really happening.
I’m not going to make it to this wedding.”

In my dreams I’m panicking and frantically running around, but as I was awake with adrenaline coursing through my body I found myself calm and collected. I went up to the attendant at the counter and explained my situation. She told me that American Airlines didn’t have any more flights going to NY that night, but there was a JetBlue flight that was leaving soon.

I hurried over to my friends, who were together in a panicked huddle, praying I could get back home. I told them about the flight leaving today, and that I’ll head back on my own while they wait for the morning flight.

They drove me in one of those carts to the other side of the airport to JetBlue’s gate. I made it to the gate with time to spare, ready to buy the ticket then and there. The nausea started to subside as it seemed like things might work out. My attempts weren’t futile! Maybe I can make up for my hubris by paying for an overpriced ticket, getting to the wedding, and doing a great job at this wedding tomorrow. 

But, for reasons I’ve forgotten and outside my control, the JetBlue flight also got canceled. The gut punch I avoided so much in my dreams once it landed, wasn’t so much a punch as it was molten lava erupting from my stomach up to my head and then traveling back down my neck and shoulders, melting my ego, and hardening in the deepest parts of my gut and soul.

“No need to wake up buddy, this wasn’t a dream.
It really happened.
You’re not going to make it to the wedding and there’s nothing you can do.”

I called the wedding planner 12 hours before I was supposed to be onsite to tell her I won’t be able to make it. She responded with a scream, yelling at me about how unprofessional I was and how I’m fucking up the entire day. When I told her I had people who were ready to sub in for me, she said she’ll take care of it and hung up on me. 

The hotel the airline put us up for the night had a hot tub, and so my friend and I sat there with a glass of whiskey and a cigar coming to terms with the biggest mistake of my career.

On the flight back the next morning, I prepared myself to atone for my sins. I was ready to pay back the cosmic debt I had incurred on this couple’s wedding day and whatever I had done to displease God. 

I emailed the couple when I got back to NYC a few hours after I knew their wedding was over. I told them how sorry I was and would refund their money. After I sent the email, I waited to receive their punishment and consequences of my mistake. I was ready to take it in humility and beg for forgiveness.

The next day I got an unexpected call from a friend. 

“Hey Minnow, it’s Matt, remember me?”

“Of course! How are you doing?” 

Matt briefly worked as an intern for an officemate of mine and we hung out a few times while he was here.

“I’m good too. Hey, so I’m calling because the strangest thing happened yesterday. I was at one  of my best friend’s wedding and after it was over we were sitting together having a drink talking about their day.
They told us they loved how everything turned out except for the fact the photographer they hired never showed up.”

“…oh dear God.”

“I said, ’What??? Who? Who was this loser?’ and they answered, ‘Minnow Park.’”

“Holy...”

“I was so surprised to hear your name. I told them that I knew you, and that you were a great guy and that there must have been something that went totally wrong for you to not not show up. I told them you wouldn’t just bail on them for no good reason. It sucked that this happened, but I hope everything is ok man.”

The couple responded a few days later with words that were just as gracious as Matt’s. They were, of course, disappointed but they were understanding. All they asked for was the refund on their deposit. I don’t know what they said or didn’t say to all their other friends who were getting married, but I was able to still go on photographing weddings for another 10 years. 

The punishment and verdict I was waiting for never came. I realized how I was in some way looking forward to atone for what I did because then I wouldn’t have had to make sense of what just happened. I knew I deserved punishment, and yet I was offered grace. Accepting it meant that even in my hubris and foolishness I didn’t deserve to be rejected and cast aside. All I could do was accept and keep going.

---

I remembered this story the other day as I was driving to the gym. The beats of this story have played out in similar rhythms at other times of my life. This year especially has been one of the most, let’s use the word, intense years of my life. It’s turned me upside down underneath an avalanche of loss, grief, and shame and I think my brain offered up this story as a point of reference to say, “Really, it’ll be ok.” Because as everything is settling down, I’m finding there is always grace waiting to be offered.

But if it’s true that, “Grace is just the natural loving flow of things when we allow it, instead of resisting it.” Why do I spend so much time resisting grace? Who doesn’t want grace and love? I do, but when it was offered by Matt and the couple, I had to convince myself it was ok to receive it.

It seems my ego doesn’t actually want grace and love. It would much rather work and earn all the good things that come its way. It feels better to say, “I made it happen” as opposed to, “This is all happening for me.”

Working hard for what I want is something I can control, something I can boast about, and feel secure in. But receiving what I need, without any merit and allowing myself to be loved, forgiven, and accepted feels threatening and undeserving.

I think that’s why God designed life to be punctuated by great love and great suffering, because those are the only things that can get my ego to stop scheming and allow me to plumb into my soul. And it’s there, free from ego, I can surrender to the grace and love that has always been offered to me.

So yes then and now, from Puerto Rico, all the way to the storm that has been this year, all is grace.

That wedding planner though? She probably still hates me.