Grace - joining in a blog carnival

Grace... how can I resist?

Grace is a day full of struggle, meanness and arguing which ends with a pink-purple-orange streaked sky, lifting my spirit.

Grace is the bursting dawn of the fresh, unblemished next morning.

Grace is allowing the giggles to invade and conquer my ranting, to stop in mid-accusation and see with a child's view.

Grace is a meal arriving on the doorstep when the thought of scraping together dinner is like the weight of a boulder.

Grace is the smile on my dear friend's face as the tumour in her mother's liver swells daily.

Grace is the heart of a woman, bruised by infertility, loving and rejoicing in another's children. Sharing them as her own.

Grace is accepting love and favour from others, however clumsily offered.

Grace is the cuddle at the end of a tantrum.

Grace is the love that greets me, unchanged by my failure. The love that draws me to follow it.

Undeserved, unmerited, not contingent on me.

Abundant, unending, waiting for finding.

Threads and seams more precious than gold.

Teach us to see it, to give and receive it, heavenly father of grace.

This post is a response to the blog carnival at One Word at a Time.