Grace is a verb.
I have a new understanding of grace. And yet, despite my new understanding of what grace means to me or perhaps in spite of it, I find myself bristling when asked to give grace to another. It happened recently when my son and his girlfriend were in the midst of evaluating their relationship. Actually, it seemed as though they were about to break up. Susan asked for grace as she needed time to figure out her next moves. In the moment, I accepted the assignment. Later, I bristled. I’d been had. Susan had just been given permission to kick back and do nothing by me. I bristled because I consented to absolving her of active participation or so I thought with self-righteous hindsight. Clearly my new understanding was going to take a minute to sink into my reptilian brain.
There used to be a running joke among the small group leaders at my local Episcopal church: so and so is an REG, requires extra grace. It was a churchy or nice way of saying that someone is unpleasant or difficult. It always got a knowing nod and perhaps a low chuckle. Oh, one of those people, we would all think. There might have been an eye roll. I am cringing because I would give the nod and the chuckle.
The truth is don’t we all require grace and sometimes extra grace. I know I do. The other truth is that I have been the person asking for grace during a difficult situation that feels so big and scary that I am paralyzed. I don’t know what my next steps are and I am completely exhausted just thinking about it. I want to crawl back into bed and pull up the covers.
Grace, the verb, asks that I am actively receiving people in a spirit of acceptance, in the fullness of their humaness. It is not a throwaway phrase to excuse behavior that I don’t like or understand. It is not a ‘nice’ way to say that person is strange or difficult. Grace the verb requires that I stretch. Grace the verb, is me showing up in each moment allowing for human foible and fragility, pausing for a moment to collect my thoughts and just breathe, leaning into a world that offers wonder and awe. Grace the verb is a workout, a soft place to lay my head, and a squeeze of my hand reminding me to smile.
