Faith: Thankful for every bit of grace - given and received

“Grace isn’t your middle name.”

I heard that a lot growing up, mostly after I had landed in a messy heap doing something that ended badly. The nursery rhyme from the 1800s that says Tuesday’s child is full of grace wasn’t written about me. 

As the stories go, I was an accident waiting to happen. Whether we’re talking about bikes, skates, horses, dancing, ladders, grace wasn’t my strong suit.

I had heart, stamina, desire; I just didn’t have coordination. I like to think of it as being particularly gifted in lack of grace. 

I didn’t outgrow the lack of grace. But I did learn more about that nursery rhyme. Grace didn’t mean coordination, but referred to manners, elegance, refinement.  

Now manners … that was a thing growing up in our house. And the lessons we learned are still with me now. Share. Play fair. Put things up. Don’t take things that aren’t yours. Don’t hit people. No name calling. If you do something wrong, apologize. Love people.  

And then there’s grace. Grace isn’t magical; it’s actually a difficult thing at times to offer.

Don’t get me wrong; I’m a flawed human stitched together by grace. And I’m grateful for each time I’ve been met by grace and mercy. It can be a tough thing for us to accept, and an even tougher thing for us offer someone else. 

Like everyone else, I’ve been on the wrong end of stories and gossip, of name calling, of unkind behavior, of an apology that didn’t happen. Life stuff.

We don’t have to stay seated at a table where disrespect is being served. Sometimes, we just have to cut the threads in order to preserve our own sense of well-being. Then we shut the door and walk away. 

Until a piece of the past comes knocking. 

It would be easy, and maybe a bit tempting, to respond in kind to others’ past behavior. But, where’s the grace in that? Grace isn’t one-sided. How can we expect to receive grace ourselves, if we aren’t willing to extend it to others?  

I’m thankful for the people in my life who hold me accountable, who lift me up, who love me even when I’m not my most loveable. I always pray for grace and mercy rather than what I deserve. If I ask for that for myself, to be met with grace, how can I refuse to do the same for someone else?  

I’m grateful for every bit of grace that comes my way, and for grace that I can extend to others. When we live in that space of grace, soul wounds can be healed, ours as well as others. Grace prevails. 

Patti Dobson writes about faith for The Eastern New Mexico News. Contact her at:

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