Grace.

How we miss you. You seem to have left so long ago it is hard to remember what you looked like.

We complain about not seeing you anymore but it is just as hard to find you in our mirror as it is in our neighbors.

It seems most any week we witness graceless examples. Some happened long ago and some are just several days old.

One does not excuse the other.

But they did it first……

Have we really become so childish? Have we really become so petty? Unfortunately I know the answer before I even ask it.

“But do you know what he wants to do? We have to get rid of him…..at any cost.” Is becoming a timeless statement.

At any cost? Any price? And I wonder why we miss grace so much.

But they did it first and look what they did to our guy. Did you like it then? Does that really make it right? Does getting even feel good? Or did you pay attention to grace’s exit when you turned down that road?

You don’t know what it was like……

I don’t.

And I cannot pretend that I do.

But I can honestly say I don’t want you or I to feel that way anymore. I want to find the grace to say I am sorry, and I want you to find the grace to accept my apology. Reliving the experience over and over after you say you accept my apology isn’t moving on. It isn’t expressing grace. It’s holding grudges. History is an important lesson. Typically it is a hindrance for growing grace and more often a fertilizer for hedges of hatred. Grace performs best in spite of history seldom because of it.

I realize my childhood, while certainly less than perfect, was so much better than others. I never experienced the shut doors of race or sex. I never had opportunity taken away from me because of any of those reasons. I can’t fix that.

But I can make sure I don’t do that. I can make sure I stand up for all. I can remove the blinders and realistically see life for what it is. I can work to make sure our kids don’t experience the memories which scarred you so much. I truly want them to have a equal opportunity to experience a life without any -isms.

This requires meeting in the middle and piling up the borders which separate us. The racist, sexist walls as well as the historic hostilities and decades of distrust. All of these keep us from moving forward. After we pile them up we need to burn them so we cannot pick them up anymore.

When we discover someone made a mistake in the past yet has matured and shown it then grace requires we show grace.

But we need the walls of separation…….

There are great reasons for a wall.

And also for a gate, or a door.

I feel secure behind the safety of my walls. And yet I also feel lonely. I need the company of others to feel complete. My heritage dictates I cannot be excluding. It would be self defeating. My talents are not so incredible I am self sufficient. So I have a door. I can open it up and allow company in. I can bring in those more talented than I to fix, repair or replace. I vet those I allow in. They are friends of friends or recommendations of others. I can gracefully welcome or exclude. I don’t have to be rude, but I can be discerning.

Our Father showed us and showered us in His Grace. And if I am His then I need to do the same.

Join me in finding grace this week and sharing it with someone.

Last week I scratched the lens in my glasses.

It was a big scratch. I couldn’t see around it. I tried just ordering a new lens for that eye, but my prescription had expired. I ended up having to get my vision rechecked.

While I was there, I also had my contact lens prescription checked. I love wearing contacts, but my eyes were always tired by the time I got home. Because I need one prescription for distance and another for reading, the doctor had me perform a simple eye-dominance test. She asked me to hold my hands together, forming a small triangle, and focus on one of her eyes through the opening.

We repeated the test three times.

"You're right-eye dominant."

I had been wearing my reading contact in my right eye and my distance contact in my left. She suggested switching them.

Just like that, my tired eyes disappeared.

It was exciting to be able to wear contacts again.

But I learned an important lesson here.

About the same time I was dealing with my scratched lens and my tired eyes, a friend was having a rough go with a situation at work. They were struggling with a co-worker and it seemed every time something happened these two butted heads.

I asked this person if they were ever able to look at a shared experience with their co-worker without seeing it thru the past hurts, bumping of heads, cross words or memories of anything else which had negatively impacted their relationship.

Sometimes I deal with people who have rubbed me the wrong way, smudging the lens through which I view that relationship until it's all I can see.

Which led me to think about all the different lenses through which we see life.

There are relationships where we have blinders on. We love someone so much we can’t see the hurtful things they might be doing to us, themselves or others.

With some relationships  we carry preconceived ideas into them and need corrective lenses to understand what we are seeing isn’t anything like we had thought it was.

We sometimes experience moments when life smudges our glasses and instead of throwing a relationship away, we need to clean away the smudge and move on.

There are those situations where we got ourselves so crossed up it seems like too much work to fix it. And all we need to do is switch the lens from one perspective to another to see clearly.

As my mind wandered, it dawned on me.

 All of these situations were in my control.

I can clean a smudged lens before it becomes a permanent scratch.

I can replace a scratched lens instead of continuing to look through it.

I can ask for help when I've been seeing things through the wrong perspective.

Most importantly, I choose what I focus on.

Will I keep staring at the scratches and smudges of yesterday...

...or clean the lenses and see today a little more clearly?

I think I will clean my lenses first.

Sticks and Stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.

More fairy tale than nursery rhyme.

Words are hurling all around us at breakneck speed.

Spoken. Texted. Digital. Printed. Shouted.

We line up on the lines of demarcation…

"Ready."

"Fire!"

"AIM."

We spew our words in bucket loads—hot, steamy, angry, boiling cauldrons perched on the edge of our walls of separation, waiting to pour over anyone daring enough to contradict our sacred positions.

We regurgitate them over and over, reducing complex issues to simple bullet points, each aimed at the kill shot.

"Gotcha!"

"Take that!"

And yet we wonder why "they" won't listen.

Our ears are so clogged with the resounding fire of our own replies we are deafened to each other's points of view.

The smoke clouds our vision and stings our eyes until we can no longer see common ground.

When was the last time you admitted "the other guy" might have had a good idea?

There was a time when we came together to fight a common enemy, united in one cause.

Now it seems the easiest way to defeat us is simply to let us destroy each other.

Less bloody for them.

Far more deadly for us.

Twenty-four-hour news has to capture our attention.

So we hear more catastrophes, calamities, breaking news, horrific stories, and weekly "storms of the century."

A car accident at the corner becomes national headline-worthy news.

They cried wolf.

And we listened.

Until we didn't.

So they raised the stakes and turned up the volume.

We went social.

We went viral.

We went fake.

The more numb we become, the further we decline.

There was a time when our language was tempered by standards.

Today, opinion pieces masquerade as news, and too many news channels have replaced "just the facts" with personalities whose opinions become talking points repeated by their audiences.

In the midst of all this noise I am reminded daily that "Please" and "Thank you" have opened more doors for me than any other words.

"Ma'am" and "Sir" are close behind.

These words carry weight because they have become rarities.

They are the tools of my trade—the workhorses that build bridges instead of tearing them down.

Listen.

Listen to those who disagree with you, and think before you respond.

Listen.

Listen to the words in your head before they cross your lips with the intent to destroy your opponent.

Verify.

Before you become an echo of falsehood, double-check your sources.

Be kind.

It is ironic how often we protest the mistreatment of some while bashing and bullying others.

I guess it just depends on who we like.

That depresses me.

Remember, words can heal as well.

Instead of firing shots across the bow of someone else's boat, try stringing an arrow of kindness in your own.

It can begin with something as simple as "Hi."

A little more difficult might be, "How are you?"

Then...

Listen.

Reunite with each other.

Find a path you can walk together.