grace.

Grace. Five lettered. One syllable. But so complex in its meaning. It is a word I’ve often heard flung around within the confines of churches, and so, with its casual use, came my misunderstanding of it. I thought it a word simply used to describe forgiveness but I neglected to understand the power it held for those extending it, and the peace it gave to those receiving it. I’ve come to know that grace is undeserved and unmerited favour. I’ve come to understand that it is the ability to offer understanding when anger is the deserved response. It is the ability to plead before God for those who’ve broken you endlessly. To tell them, “I will be here still.” Of course this is not to be confused with allowing people to break you in the name of love. Nor is it putting yourself below another and submitting yourself to tyranny and abuse. It is your heart beating for those who know not to stake a claim in your love. Who are shocked by your strength in giving it to them, and who find peace in your gifting. This is grace for others - Power in the extender’s hands and peace in the receiver’s.  

But what about grace for oneself in the process of blooming and becoming? How do we extend grace to ourselves when we always seem to wield the sharpest dagger against ourselves? How do we extend grace to ourselves when society continues to shove the message of not enough through each facet of our lives? How, when another’s carefully orchestrated pictures capture a serene family scene and your own kids are more rough and tumble than Pumpkin Patch? What about when you look at the prodigies of Snapchat and Twitter and it seems that you’ve passed your use-by date - too old to ever get your business off the ground? What about when everyone else seems to have life figured out, looking like the smiley stock photos that come with the frame - meanwhile you’re still weighted down by vices and pain?

How do you wade through all that and still declare that you’ll champion for yourself? That you’re still here for you?  You choose yourself again and again. 

You become your own cheerleader.

You forgive yourself for seemingly wasted time - that is every hour spent vegging out in front of the television, as well as every power nap turned four hour sleep.

You go to the gym again even after a five day break, because slow progress is better than no progress. You remind yourself of where you were a year ago and how slowly and steadily you are indeed becoming.

You thank God for healthy, well-loved children even as you comb out the chewing gum that you thought you’d hidden away from curious eyes. 

You allow yourself a night of self-care and you get up tomorrow and put in the work. 

You remind yourself that there is no timeline for life. 

You wield grace day in and day out. 

Even if you feel undeserving or that you haven’t earned it - you extend it to yourself anyway. 

You remind yourself that you are enough. That you are exactly where you need to be, for such a time as this.