There was a time that I thought it was just an act, a thing. Grace was what you said before a meal or a just-because gift for a friend.
Grace showed up in hard conversations and quiet moments, sneaking in both unexpected and welcomed. I couldn’t tell you just when it happened, although I’d wager a guess it began when I began counting gifts, but along the way I discovered that grace is something we can grow in.
Who doesn’t want to receive more grace, right? All of us everywhere would say yes to an extra heaping spoonful of it, no matter when or where or why. More grace? Yes, please, thanks.
I count gifts of grace and find that I’m becoming more grace-full.
Don’t mistake that for graceful, because that I am not. But the more grace meets me and startles me, interrupting my day and conversation and inner monologue, I grow up and out as well.
Grace is growing and not just in the way you might be thinking. I hope I’m showing more grace to those around me, but inside I’m learning and re-learning what giving grace to myself looks like. It seems I’m the last person that I ever want to hand it over to, as if I deserve it least of all.
Because, well, that’s the truth. I know myself better than anyone else, and grace? It’s hard to give myself some.
But I’m growing in grace, ignoring logic and reason and practicing 2 Peter 3:18 on myself every once in a while.
The more I know Him, the more I see His glory and my sin, the less grace I seem to deserve. And in the same breath, the more I know Him, the more I see His love and sacrifice and grace poured over my life, running down and spilling over.
But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To him be glory both now and forever! Amen. // 2 Peter 3:18, NIV
I miss it a lot. The inner banter continues to play inside and I forget He’s already covered it all, paid every penny, taken it to the grave. And then there’s the grace, the grace of the grave and we’ve circled back again already.
When love invades even the grave becomes grace.
They placed Him in the tomb but on Sunday He stepped out, leaving death inside, victorious over the only thing they believed could keep Him down.
The promise of the empty tomb is that at the end of this life we get an empty tomb. Death is just a one-way ticket to look upon the beauty of His face.
If you peer into the empty tomb you have no choice but to replace the V with C and see that the Savior has risen and all really is grace.
When all seemed hopeless we find that we can trust our God because He knows what He is doing. Greater is He than any in the world. So what if all these things that we add to our plates, what if all the to-dos and expectations we pile on, were let go in grace so we could stop while the mess is still there and the rooms of our lives aren’t all in perfect order — and we could pile on grace, adding grace to the to-do list and erasing the rest?
Not overnight. Not in a split second. But slowly, roots growing deep down and in Him, all of us growing in grace.