In a conversation with a friend, we were discussing how to handle frustrating groups of people. You know the kind: People who can’t see past their own noses, who say ‘how are you’ but don’t wait for the answer, and who might be physically present but not emotionally. These soul-suckers and emotional drainers drag us down with their see-through-you-but-don’t-see-you gaze.
Our conversation went something like this:
Me: We need to hit them over the heads with bricks and then hip-wiggle around them while shaking our hair.
Friend: Let’s tie them to fireworks and send them off into the sky.
Me: YEAH! That’ll wake them up.
Kidddddinngggg.
The True Conversation
Friend: I’m just tired of trying.
Me: But should we try to extend grace to them? We don’t know what’s going on in their lives or in their heads.
Friend: That’s the road to burnout.
LIVE OUT grace
That conversation is still bouncing around in my head. Friend had a point. Burnout is always a possibility when we deal with the same types of people over and over again and nothing changes.
Someone once described grace to me as receiving a good thing that you don’t deserve.
Nicampoop human beings make me want to run into a tree over and over again until the tree and I both go down…they absolutely don’t deserve grace in my opinion, but that’s not what grace is. Grace is given to the undeserving. By that definition, the list of people that I need to offer grace to is long.
I’ll start the list.
me.
Honestly, I rarely give myself grace. I have ridiculous expectations for myself and my to-do list stretches from the beginning of the year to the end of the year…on repeat. But you know, when I’m kind to me, it’s easier to be kind and more grace-giving to others.
But before I forget, grace is modeled best by Jesus. Every day. To us. And in that light, not offering grace to others is a bit like slapping Jesus’s gift of grace away.
Grace is saying someone’s line when they forget it.
The silence on the stage stretched long. Someone had forgot a line. Actors shot looks at the directors in the front row who had scripts open on laps, but no one spoke. After what felt like five minutes, the head director strode to up to the stage.
“Okay, guys, we aren’t feeding you the lines anymore. That’s why you need to have your lines memorized.” The director placed her hands on her hips while the actors shifted under her gaze. “But here’s the thing. None of you are perfect. You are going to mess up, drop a line, or forget one, but you aren’t up here alone.”
At this moment, the actors eyed each other. You could almost hear their thoughts: where was the director going with this?
“When someone forgets a line, you need to save them. Extend grace to each other by jumping in with a line that is similar to the forgotten one.”
I don’t know about you, but that moment was a powerful one for me, even when I wasn’t on the stage. No one had ever used grace like that before. I’ll be honest. I’m the self-righteous kid who wants you to boil in misery when you mess up, but naturally, I want grace extended to me. Grace is saying someone’s line when they forget it.
Grace is helping someone untangle.
My teachers encourage me to attend open gym time to work on the aerial silk skills that I’ve learned in class. Gym time is supervised. However, teachers aren’t supposed to offer instruction. In my mind, that means they can’t offer help either.
Climbing up the aerial silks, I placed one foot in a lock (basically, a knot of silk around my foot so I can rest all my weight on that foot without any slipping). I struggled to remember the step-by-step process for the trick I wanted to do. Within moments, yards of fabric tangled around me.
Balancing on one leg while holding on with one arm, I used my free arm to pull at the fabric. My muscles shook as they tired. At this height, I couldn’t just drop to the floor.
I’d gotten here so I needed to get myself out.
“Do you need an untangle?” A teacher crossed the room towards me.
“Yes.” The word whooshed out of me. I needed help. Grace is helping someone untangle.
Grace is much kinder than I give it credit for.
Grace extends to the crazy nicampoops and to me as I handle those nicampoops. Some days I may be able to offer each nicampoop more grace, and other days I’ll need to just go home and give myself the grace gift of curling up in a ball in a dark room by myself.
So as you and I LIVE OUT grace, may you and I learn how to offer grace gifts not only to others but to ourselves as well.
Where have you seen grace show up in your life?
Have you untangled someone or said their forgotten line? Has someone offered you grace?
[…] LIVE OUT grace […]