Grace

Grace.
I can't imagine my life without grace.

It's allowed me to live, to be, and to become.
It's let me breath, breath in, and breath out.
It's picked me up out of ashes, and changed me into something more.
Someone who is worthy, who is valuable, and is loved.
Someone who makes mistakes, but can get back up.
Not just a second chance, but a third, a fourth, and so on.
Because no matter how hard I try, I just always get it wrong.
It welcomes me in and gives me a place to belong.
Grace that sees beyond chances, and just sees a heart that matters.
Grace that gives me a purpose, and keeps forgiving as I try to fulfill it.
Grace that gives freely, gives often, and gives always.
It heals me, it catches me, it changes me.
It’s replaced my brokenness with a story of meaning.
It’s changed me from nothing into something,
When I fail, grace gives me a future.
When I fall, grace picks me up.
When I stand at the edge, thinking about giving up, grace captures those thoughts and gives me hope.
Grace doesn’t care about what I do, but rather who I am.
It doesn’t count my mistakes, or even the good things I count on my hands.
It finds me, it keeps me, it holds me, it entangles me.
It sees me, it frees me, it guarantees my eternity…
Yet, I sit here undeserving, often ungrateful, and still complaining.
I sit here wanting more, always wanting something.
But ever so gently and swiftly, grace still finds me.

Grace.
I can’t imagine my life without grace.