And so, it seems there is pressure, because I am not very good at this. It is easy to extend grace in the quiet morning with coffee and a soft blanket and nobody needing anything from me. It is hard to extend grace after a rushed morning of snapping and fixing and grumping around, after doing and saying those things you hate but they come out anyway, after stomping and moping and huffing through dinner.

It is hard to extend grace then, and I am really bad at it. Really bad. And so there is a sneaking, sweeping temptation to believe that grace is for the good ones, the quiet ones, the ones who hold it together. Grace is for the ones who have figured out things I haven’t, the ones who know how to hold the lid on tight, the ones who don’t even have a lid. Or maybe there is no grace at all. Because I can’t extend it, I am unable to receive it. And because I can’t receive it, I am unable to extend it. And ’round and ’round the circle I go, chasing peace and finding only chaos.

But if grace is only for those who deserve it, could we even call it grace? It would then be a reward, a prize, a ribbon of achievement. Grace if for the girl who isn’t very good at it, for the girl who grumbles and stumbles and stomps around. Grace is for her, today, right now. Do you know that girl? Do you know this kind of grace?

If you are looking for Tuesdays Unwrapped, we will pick back up on November 2. I simply couldn’t juggle weekly links and a daily post. But there may be a day during these 31 that I invite you to link, so stay tuned!