For the Love of GRACE
“Grace died thirty years ago…” If you aren’t familiar with that line from Family Christmas Vacation, just know that is a favorite line in our household. And if someone asks to say grace, you better know that line is being said or, at the very least, thought of (if we happen to be somewhere that it wouldn’t be appropriate to shout out.) Lol!
In our marriage, I usually am the optimistic one. I always try to see the best in people. And any time Kris is just trying to vent to me about something, I always try to play devil’s advocate by trying to see the best in the situation. (And more than often he responds with, can I just vent without you sticking up for the other person for a minute?) Insert here my inability to do so. I am just a natural fixer and really like when everyone is at peace with one another. I hate opposition and the thought of confrontation makes my anxieties rise and my heart race.
I usually can extend grace to most people pretty easily. But I find that the person it is hardest for me to extend grace to…is Kris. And my gosh… the person Kris probably extends the most grace to is ME!
I am not sure if this is because he is the person I can be the most real with or if because I can say and feel exactly how I want to, knowing he won’t hold it against me – probably an even mixture of the two – but the girl who rarely gives attitude to anyone else can quickly get sassy at home.
And ironically… for most of our relationship, I actually extended way more grace than Kris did. Honestly, I probably still extend the same amount of grace, Kris has just improved immensely. (Thank you, Jesus).
When I started writing this blog, I actually stopped writing after the third paragraph. And as I was talking with a friend of mine about being stuck on this blog and not knowing where to go with it, she responded with, “Do you think it is because it is something you’re still working on and don’t have a final conclusion to it?”
Ding. Ding. Ding.
(Notice the periods between the “dings”. This is to emphasize the fact that I wasn’t exactly thrilled with that thought – but it is certainly right.)
So, this isn’t going to be a blog with a really nice conclusion at the end. Because it is something I am still working on and will probably forever be working on it. So this is going to be more of a blog that shows how imperfect I am and really, really stubborn.
As I was talking with Kris about this topic just a little bit ago – I was thanking him for the amount of grace he constantly extends to me. (If you ever saw me hangry – you’d be thanking him for the grace he extends, too). Knowing that I should extend more grace to him, isn’t what helps me extend more grace. Nor does him telling me to be a little more gracious to him help. And nor does him telling me to read “Law and Gospel” help me either.
But the grace he constantly extends to me, is what makes me want to extend more grace back to him. Which really makes a lot of sense if you think about it. Because growing up, did being told to clean your room ever make you actually want to clean your room? I could want to clean my room, but the moment I was told to clean my room, all of a sudden I didn’t want to. But on a day that my mom was cleaning the house, and my dad was cleaning up the yard…I, too, wanted my room to be nice and tidy.
I know that seems obvious now that you have read that, but I know just those facts alone have taken me awhile to comprehend. It also helps me understand why the nagging on my end about different situations never seems to help the problem. (Reference back to my “Flaws” blog for more insight regarding that.)
Your struggle may not be having enough grace for your partner, but you can insert whatever your struggle is and whatever your partners struggle is, and the idea of a possible conclusion remains the same.
The perfectionist in me doesn’t want to post this blog until I have a real conclusion or answer, but that isn’t the point of these blogs. I want the blogs to be real and true. And the reality of this one, is that I am a work in progress.
With Love, Kayla