I’ve heard grace is easy. But I’ve never known it that way. Grace is always getting dirty, right in the mess.
Dirty grace confronts the ugliness inside, grabs it by the fistfuls, and kills it with the relentless violence of love. It’s not the textbook grace you put on like a cheap dress. It hurts like crazy: but afterward there is stillness and peace, like the morning. It’s like beginning again.
There is a joy available that the deepest grief cannot put out. No circumstance or person can take away the joy God gives.
Resolve to be tender with the young, compassionate with the aged, sympathetic with the striving and tolerant with the weak and wrong. Sometime in your life, you will have been all of these.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could all be a little more gentle with each other, and a little more loving, have a little more empathy, and maybe we’d like each other a little bit more.
So, do it. Decide. Is this the life you want to live? Is this the person you want to love? Is this the best you can be? Can you be stronger? Kinder? More Compassionate? Decide. Breathe in. Breathe out and decide
All of a sudden, I was wrapped in your arms instead of your thoughts. You have no idea how wonderful it is to finally be home.
22 years old and lost my soul a little bit.
I need to start doing more of the things that make me feel alive.
Trouble is, I don’t know what they are.