Grace.

"Grace," said the Sunday Morning minister, "is being fully known, and fully embraced. Imagine if you had a USB port, and we could plug you in," (I glanced sideways at my technology-loving son and was gratified to see him bolt upright and hanging on every word!!) "and every single portion of your life would flash across this screen," he pointed at the projected make-shift screen on the wall, "for us all to see. And imagine if we would embrace you fully...even when we knew the worst things about you. That," he emphasized, "is Grace."

I sat rooted to the bench, my mind playing out what that would look like if that scenario was played out and my life was up on the screen for all to see.

There would be the despair of feeling like I wasn't cutting it as a parent...of times of impatience with my children, or times I had embarrassed them. There would be the times that my children weren't always responsible, and I should have urged them to step up, but I didn't.

There would be the times I "phase out" every so often. There would be my Covid symptom of being played out by 7:30 PM while my children are still going strong. There would be the many ways and times I try to distract myself from the grief of being abandoned and betrayed...it seems that I can never get away from it. There would be the messy house, and the laundry pile that doesn't always get folded. There would be the locked office...the office that I quickly throw things into before company comes in a swift clean-up effort...and then lock the door.

There would be the many business call-backs I need to make at any given time, or planning the schedule for the Princess House Joseph Gem Team. There would be financial and book-keeping mistakes, and the pile of dress material that should have been sewed up yesterday. There would be the times I should have taken time to care about others, but I didn't. There would be the times I should have kept my mouth shut, or I should have offered more sympathy.

There would be so many ugly things up there for spectators to sit goggle-eyed over.

But there also would be the Love for my Jesus up there. There would be my intense desire to someday see with my own eyes the redemption of someone I love very much. There would be the millions of prayers up there. There would be my heart's intent to follow after Him. There would be my heart's love for my dearest family and my church up there...I love my church and the people in it sooo very much.

I wondered if the good things, which seemed a very short list, was big enough to compensate for the bad. Would my friends look beyond the actual performance of something I tried to do, and realize that my heart's desire was intended to be pure? Was that enough?

I turned my thoughts back the the minister...he had continued his sermon while my thoughts had rambled.

"We ALL mess up," he was saying. And he followed up with the story of the woman caught in adultery, and how the only person who could throw a stone at her was Jesus, for He was sinless. And what did Jesus do? He offered GRACE. Grace is an umbrella that covers everything, he said, and Grace is so much bigger than we know.

The words sank into my ears, and all the way down into the depth of my heart. It dripped with healing oil and wine, and softened into salty tears that spilled over onto my hot cheeks. Grace was there...for even me.

Grace. To know all of the ugly details, but to still offer love and mercy. To not judge. To pursue someone's heart, even when you may not always see eye to eye. To offer life even in the midst of stress or disagreement. How in the world is that even possible?

Grace is freeing, and non-condemning. Grace is kind. And, I think Grace is honest...it meets failure squarely...even looks it in the face--and offers unconditional Love. Grace sees all of my short-comings, yet pursues me gently and accepts me devotedly. It comprehends the death of a hard-fought for, desperately-wanted dream, while still handing out strength to see the day through. It understands exactly how hard something is, while still holding out Hope. Grace takes the punishment in my place, and sets me free. Grace understands the exhausting journey, and when I'm staggering along, nearly kackered, Grace reaches down, gathers me up, and carries me the rest of the way.

I think that Grace is...

Grace is...

It's...

I believe it's...

Jesus.