A Problem With Grace

Grace is a beautiful word.

We sing about it. We preach about it. We talk about being saved by grace.

But grace can be surprisingly difficult to live with.

I was reminded of that today.

I was dealing with something that has been weighing on me for a while. It had gotten complicated enough that I knew I probably needed some help, and someone had already offered to help me.

But I didn’t want to follow through.

I was embarrassed and ashamed that I had let things get as messy as they had, and asking for help meant letting someone else see the mess.

My wife reminded me that help had already been offered. I told her, “I’m embarrassed. I’m ashamed.”

And she said something I didn’t especially want to hear. “That’s your pride.”

She was right.

And that got me thinking about grace. Sometimes grace is hard to receive. Someone picks up the check at dinner and our first instinct is, “No, no, let me get it” or “I’ll get you next time.”

A friend offers to cut the grass while we’re overwhelmed.

Someone sees something around the house that needs repairing and says, “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry about paying me.”

Someone brings dinner.
They watch the kids.
They loan us something we need.
They give us their time.
They offer their expertise.

And sometimes our instinct is to resist.

“You don’t have to do that.”
“I’ve got it.”
“I’ll figure it out.”

Sometimes those words sound like maturity, but underneath them there can be something else.

Pride.

Because grace is hard to receive when receiving it requires admitting that we need something we can’t provide for ourselves.

And sometimes…receiving grace means letting another person see the mess. That may be the hardest part of all of it.

We want people to see the cleaned-up version of our lives. We don’t mind receiving help once we have explained why everything went wrong, defended ourselves a little, and made sure everyone understands that this isn’t normally who we are.

But grace doesn’t require us to clean everything up before we receive it. That is, after all, the whole point of grace.

And yet grace can be just as difficult to give.

Grace is calling somebody when you know they’re having a hard week.
It’s sending the text instead of assuming somebody else will.
It’s having your Saturday interrupted because someone needs help.
It’s sitting longer than you expected because someone needs to talk.
It’s opening your home to strangers.
It’s giving money you had planned to use somewhere else because somebody is in trouble.
It’s giving without keeping track.

And then there are the harder moments.

Someone hurts you.
Someone misunderstands you.
Someone says something unfair.
Someone disappoints you.
Someone sins against you.

And suddenly…grace doesn’t feel sentimental anymore. It becomes costly.

Because grace means giving someone something they haven’t earned.

Patience.
Kindness.
Mercy.
Forgiveness.
Another conversation.
Another opportunity.

Sometimes grace means refusing to make another person spend the rest of their life paying for the worst thing they ever did to you.

Now, that doesn’t mean pretending sin didn’t happen.

Grace isn’t denial. It isn’t avoiding hard conversations. It isn’t removing every consequence or refusing to establish healthy boundaries.

But grace refuses to make vengeance our goal.

And maybe that’s part of the problem with grace.

Grace is hard to receive because it reminds us that we need something.
Grace is hard to give because it usually costs us something.

The gospel confronts both problems.

“For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God.” - Ephesians 2:8

A gift.
Not a paycheck.
Not a reward.
Not reimbursement for good behavior.

God didn’t wait until we got everything cleaned up.
He didn’t wait until we could explain ourselves.
He didn’t wait until we became less embarrassing.
He came to us in our need.

Jesus took the initiative.
Jesus absorbed the cost.
Jesus gave mercy to people who could never repay Him.

The Christian life, then, is in many ways…learning to live with open hands.

Open enough to receive grace without trying to earn it. Open enough to let other people see that we sometimes need help. And open enough to give grace without demanding repayment.

So…maybe practicing grace this week looks remarkably ordinary.

When someone offers you kindness, receive it.
Say thank you.
Let them help.

And when you see an opportunity to give grace, don’t wait to be asked.

Make the call.
Send the text.
Pay for the meal.
Mow the grass.
Give the afternoon away.
Forgive.

Because those of us who have received so much grace should slowly become people who are known for giving it away.