A Burning in My BonesMuestra

Grace is Everywhere Whenever I visited the Petersons, at least once a day I’d find Eugene standing in front of the kitchen window, hands in his jean pockets, facing Flathead Lake. He’d watch for Hummingbirds or Kestrels or Violet-green Swallows to visit the feeders he and Jan put out each morning (removed each night to keep away the bears). He’d gaze as sunlight melted into the expanse of blue water stretching over to the snow-capped Mission Range mountains. “I love the sensuality of this place,” he said. For Eugene, this was holy ground. This was not merely a functional dwelling providing shelter and comfort. This was the place that, for eight decades, shaped Eugene. This was the place where Jan and Eugene walked and watched and prayed. They knew every inch of this cove. They knew the names of every flower and tree, taking counselors at the nearby Lutheran Bible Camp on strolls to point out each species. They knew the stories behind the native tribes who first knew this land as home. And Eugene didn’t live with such attentiveness, with this wide-eyed wonder, merely because he was nostalgic or because he had a penchant for history or ecology. Eugene absorbed every sunset, the majestic flight of every Osprey, the mystical sight of fog rising off the morning water because he believed that God was present in each and every splendor. Creation itself, Eugene believed, carries God’s holy, grace-saturated presence—and not only creation, but every friendship, every season of life, every beauty, every heartbreak. In God’s strange mercy, somehow everything pulses with God’s vibrant energy. On one of my final conversations with Eugene, we sat in their family room, the wood fire crackling, his feet warmed by his cozy blue wool socks, both of us nursing mugs of Evening in Missoula tea. Over so many days, we’d walked the ground of his improbable life, his joys and sorrows, the beauty of this stunning world, what it meant for him to be facing the end. As we talked, Eugene’s thoughts turned once again to one of his favorite novels: George Bernanos’ Diary of a Country Priest . It was as if Eugene was pulling into the present all of his years, all his work, everything and everyone he’d ever loved. And Eugene spoke the final three words Bernanos’ priest uttered from his deathbed: Grace is everywhere … We hope this Plan encouraged you. Learn more about the authorized biography of Eugene Peterson, [ A Burning in My Bones. ](https://waterbrookmultnomah.com/books/572719/a-burning-in-my-bones-by-winn-collier/)