Spiritual Growth

A day full of grace

Yesterday was a day full of grace.

From the moment I awoke I could feel the tension.  The ‘something’s’ off feeling inside of me.

My morning exercise routine – off, changed, compromised to suit the demands of this particular Monday. I did my best to blow off my internal steam, get the wheels back on the track, and make it a productive day.  I knew I needed to run some errands.

I loaded the car with miscellaneous items to return, receipts in hand, and set off.  And all was heading in the right direction until I firmly tugged on the door to my first stop only to realized it was locked.  The sign hours posted just to my right, I glanced to see that indeed today they would be closed.  I remembered, yes, the attendant had shared the pick up hours were Tuesday-Saturday, 9-4.  And again, when I called to confirm my package would be held for me, the recording stated the hours were Tuesday-Saturday, 9-4.  So why on earth was I standing there on Monday morning?  Because I make mistakes.  And as I walked back to the car I realized I knew they would be closed, yet I am human, frail, imperfect.  And some times I even forget what I already know.

This is living in grace.

Grace does not overlook, excuse, or pardon what we know should not be – but rather meets us in our frailty.

And as I slid back into the driver’s seat and fastened my seat belt, I sighed, and once again struggled to get back on track.  I pulled into the next stop, wondering if they might have what I needed from my list.  They did not.  However, as I meandered through the store, aisle by aisle, I wasted just enough time for my husband to call to add another item to my list for the day.

This is living in grace.

It was the prompt I needed to drag myself back to the car, attempting once again to regroup and get on my way.  Drawing just enough memory of the area to locate a store that would contain not just the item I had been searching for, but also this new addition to my list, I once again pulled into a parking space and exited my car.  This time, desperately wielding my attention away from the Christmas distractions at every turn, I sought out someone who could help me find my way.

Finally, headed to the check out, I was hopeful to put all this run around behind me soon.  The lines were excessively long, the cashiers excessively slow, and the frustrations of the customers growing excessively hostile.  And as I glanced at my phone, hoping somehow it could alleviate the pain of waiting, I saw her text.

“Praying for you…give me a call when you can” so I did.  We had much to catch up about, and our conversation carried me through the check out line, fifteen minutes of searching for my car in the parking lot, and getting back on track.  She closed our time praying for me… it’s been a tough year.  And with only a few short miles covered after our call had ended, I realized that the intense loneliness I had felt earlier in the day had subsided.

This is living in grace.

Almost missing the turn for my next stop, the cob webs in my mind cleared and I recalled my next stop.  Finally, like a one two punch, my list was complete and I could make my way home.

Not too long after I heard the door close loudly followed by “hello-o.” My teenagers were home.  “How was school?” “Boring” they replied.  This is the difference between elementary aged children and teenagers… good translates into boring.  We convened around the kitchen island and after they unloaded their agrivations from the day.  The conversation shifted and we found some humor in the monotony of life.  We all ate some ice cream and shared in our humanness. The laughter lifted some of the weight of life from our shoulders.

This is living in grace.

It would be a night of take out and car juggling, but as the dust settled it presented an opportunity to carpool with a close friend to Bible Study.  We were late.  But we were there.  And as the night closed we sat in my drive way for almost an hour and shared the hard things of our lives.  There’s something about sharing the common burdens of our stories that connects us deeply.  I commented that it was late and I knew I had left a sink full of dishes that would be waiting for me, so we closed with a hug and I went inside.

I made my way to the kitchen delighted to find my husband unloading the dishwasher of clean dishes. “You unload the clean, I’ll do the dirty” I said.  “Sounds like a deal” he replied.

This is living in grace.

Grace carried me like a leaf floating on the breeze and gently guided me through the day. I’m thankful for grace.



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