Grace for the Process

Yesterday I heard something that stopped me.

You do not give yourself grace.

I did not argue with it.

I did not brush it off.

I just let it sit in the back of my mind.

And I kept thinking about it.

Because I know grace.

I write about grace.

I give grace pretty freely.

But later, when I checked myself, I realized something uncomfortable:

It was true.

Guilt has a way of speaking.

Regret does too.

For things I did not know.

Things I should have done.

Things I wish I handled differently.

I replay things.

Conversations.

Failures.

Moments I missed.

Moments I should have handled better.

Regret has a way of revisiting places I thought I already left.

And if I am honest, I let it speak more than I realized.

Then a thought hit me:

I am full of grace except for Kim.

And I just sat there.

Because I knew grace.

I knew grace pulled people out.

I knew grace made room for growth.

I knew grace looked at people through compassion.

Compassion for what people know.

Compassion for what people do not know.

Compassion for wounds people carry that others never see.

I have given grace to a lot of people.

Pretty freely too.

But somewhere in the middle of all of it, I quietly built an exception.

Me.

I built an open door for everyone else and somehow locked it when it came to Kim.

I learned grace for humanity, but not for my humanity.

And suddenly I understood why carrying condemnation felt so heavy.

Then another realization came:

Maybe sometimes we do not feel like we deserve grace.

I am not even sure why.

But I realized something that brought relief almost immediately:

I deserve grace too.

Not because of me.

Not because I earned it.

Because what Jesus paid for was for me too.

For Kim too.

So maybe this is your reminder too:

Make sure you give yourself grace.

Grace for what you did not know.

Grace for where you are still growing.

Grace for the process.

Because carrying condemnation is heavy.

Not anymore, Kim.