I think falling from grace (or perceived grace) in life, as they say, brings about our finding actual grace within ourselves, at least if we have the presence and wisdom to recognize that is what is needed for healing, for growth, for peace. We have to spend time in the valley before we can appreciate the view from the top. I think it was Glennon Doyle who wrote about the valley. And grace is the greatest gift.
But, ha. Don't get me wrong. I get frustrated sometimes, just like you. I get impatient and obsessive sometimes. I probably say fuck too much, maybe more than you, and in any event more than you think I do. I totally overthink things if given too much time. I am not afraid of the dark, and, in fact, I even happily dwell there sometimes (but in such a good way... at least I think so). I can be a tad difficult and perfectionistic (unachievable, I know... you don't have to tell me, but I'm still gonna try). I probably work too hard as a result. My body is so much more broken than I ever like to admit. I can be profound, but also profane (but isn't some combination of the two required to keep things lively and inspiring?). In short, I have my faults, and I know it. But under it all, there's an abiding grace I am able to find or summon time and time again. A river that flows through the varied rest of me.
Definitions always provide deeper insight. So here we go.
Grace, as defined by Webster's (pruned and with a few left out... because who would have expected grace, as a noun, to have eight different definitions?):
1 a
: unmerited divine assistance given to humans for their regeneration or sanctification
b
: a virtue coming from God
c
: a state of sanctification enjoyed through divine assistance
2 a
: approval, favor
b
: archaic
: mercy, pardon
c
: a special favor : privilege
d
: disposition to or an act or instance of kindness, courtesy, or clemency
e
: a temporary exemption : reprieve
3 a
: a charming or attractive trait or characteristic
b : a pleasing appearance or effect : charm
...
8 a
: sense of propriety or right
b
: the quality or state of being considerate or thoughtful
And it's our own situatedness and perspective that impacts what form grace will take in our lives at a given time, in a given chapter. And how it will transform us.
We can be givers of grace. Or, of course, we can be on the receiving end of grace. And if we're especially tuned into the deeper levels and importance of real connection and beauty, we can have the presence of heart and mind to recognize how we both give it and receive it. There's almost nothing more beautifully human than that combination.
On giving grace. It's hard to give grace sometimes, when we've been tested. When things feel wrong or toxic. When something done to us feels unforgivable. When we recoil. When our patience has completely dried up and withered. It's not for the faint of heart. But when we overcome the urge to fight, to yell, to belittle, when we let harsh words roll off of us and away without absorbing them... in short, when we just give grace anyway, even in the face of undeserving behavior, we realize that it is our very constitution that drives us to be compassionate, to think of the ripple effects of everything we do, and to be strong throughout. And we are grateful for the strength and peaceful tenacity we can hold on to, which allows us to give grace, even when parts of us viscerally don't want to. Sometimes, it requires painful patience. Intolerable tolerance. Even when it's the hardest it's ever been, and even when we're scared of too many things to name, it still feels right to give grace. To emit some constant light, even in the dark. Especially in the dark. At bottom, we are all human and deserve grace, especially when we fall, that we might learn ourselves how to show it to someone else when it counts. And our children are watching all that we do. So it matters. Sometimes we, too, learn by example, even as weary old adults. I have certain special people in my life who have modeled grace for me over the years. I am lucky in that way. And grateful and so moved that I can recognize it when it unfolds before me. Sometimes, though, we learn how to give it the hard way. When we desperately wish at every eleventh hour for grace to be shown to us, but it doesn't come. And we are alone in the loneliest of ways. That, too, is a lesson that can change us for the better. To give what we wish we'd had. To give reprieve we so needed and didn't get in our darkest hours. But... if we only give, we can become empty after a while. And we can tell when we are hollow. And while it's beautiful, to only give is unsustainable.
On receiving grace. Receiving grace from another human? That. It is ever humbling, beyond word and thought. It burrows into our hearts, if we let it. And it transports us into someplace much deeper. We rise and live up to something different. It's going off the map of the expected and into the realm of real connection, of being seen. You simply cannot unsee or unfeel the beauty of grace once you've truly been gifted it and truly received it. And it makes us feel so special to know that grace comes from someone believing in our good, in our humanity. Someone who is willing to save us from our heavy, dirty selves by reflecting back to us the poetic and beautiful version of us they see. And it comes from unwavering faith that we will live up to being our highest selves, even when we are disappointed that we have fallen short in ways we'd rather not admit. Because of this kind of grace, we can face our selves for real because someone else already has (they've been willing to walk that treacherous ground before and with us), and by doing so, has accepted us. And then we can live in love and without fear. And be who we are meant to be. No hiding. No shame. Just human. And full of grace. But... if we only receive, and we do not also give, we do not allow ourselves to feel and embody the depths of the most beautiful state of being, and we would fail to know the light we, too, receive when we find we have the ability to inspire and transform someone else, just by our gift of graceful acceptance.
On recriprocal grace. Sanctified. Mercy. Reprieve. Divine. This is where the best words in the definition of grace come in. This is where we must aim. This is feeling what the stars feel like -- their guiding sparkle in the vast darkness -- in our very being, deep in our bellies where our knowing resides. Reciprocal grace is mutual acceptance of what is human, dark or light, perfect or imperfect, giving or needy, strong or weak, broken in whatever ways we are, in each of us. Maybe you'll say it's an elusive unicorn. But... I happen to know that it isn't.
When I sit down to write in this blog, it's often just because I have this need to say something important while I daily search to find something perfect upon which to focus my thoughts. To reach out and let loose on the universe something stirring within me, or maybe even some part of me, that needs to be poured out and seen. Maybe I'm unwittingly hoping to feel some grace in return. I wish I always had divine sense to know what to say. Every now and then I think perhaps I do. And maybe, just maybe, that is a manifestation of grace, too.
This image is one of the first ones that comes up when you Google "grace." A heart made out of human hands and the star that keeps us alive. Fitting, I think.
Photo credit: https://livingbydesign.org
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