God's Grace On A Three Spoon Day

It's nearly time to crawl under the covers and call it a day. I do love my bed. A weary body and a comfy bed fit together like velvcro.

It was a three spoon day when I woke up. I knew having a shower was going to use up one of the spoons. Darn.

I want to write about all I have learned through the circumstances of these past two years. How grateful I am becoming for the littlest things in life. How terribly human I still am yet not as discouraged by my humanity. How just when I write about being grateful something or someone will piss me off so bad, any ounce of gratitude I may have had vanishes, and the world is suddenly full of assholes. And how I can laugh instead of beating myself over the head for being a creature full of paradox.

It is nearly 20 years ago that a minister asked me what I thought about God's grace. I had never heard the word grace used before except in context of a prayer before meals. I had no idea what God's grace was. Back then I would have died sooner than admit I didn't know something. But I ended up telling him I didn't know.

I feel like grace has been poured out into my life in abundance. It feels like the warmth of the noon day sun shining through the window and warming my soul. Who knows maybe tonight I am confusing God's grace with my weariness. All I know is that grace feels like it is seeping through the cracks of my humanity. Even on a three spoon day. Thanks be to God.