Some say grace is being handed a lemon and making lemonade.
I say what’s wrong with the lemon? Isn’t the lemon what God intended for us, filled with vitamins and juicy goodness? Why do we have to sugarcoat it and call it grace? Is grace something we just made up or did it exist before mankind came along, like electricity or drinking water?
We say grace before a meal in recognition and thanks to God for the bounty which we are about to receive. Somewhere in our wiring, grace is connected to what God wants and yet we find that so many times grace contradicts our very nature and the way we are built.
Along with the word America, though it means many different things to many different people, I love the word grace and what it means to me. But why? Is it because I’m human and part of God or is it because I’m human and separate from God? By attaining the state of grace, do we honor or mock God?
I guess grace began with the Virgin Mary.
Imagine her husband Joseph coming home after a long day in the desert trying to grow a lemon and finding out his wife is with child. She must’ve said something like, Hail Mary, I am full of grace. He must’ve mumbled at least once, yeah Mary, you’re full of something. However, according to the Bible, if you read carefully between the lines, Joseph just shut his mouth and drank the lemonade.
Watching my two ballerinas in their spring recital, I marveled at their gracefulness to the point of tears. I was confident that they had achieved their goals, perfect or not, by how they carried themselves. It’s simultaneously nothing I can put my finger on, yet something I know in my bones.