Space & Grace

It’s a vine of ivy. Beautiful and delicate, it slowly wraps me in an embrace I long for. Before I know it, left unchecked, the embrace has tightened. I’m choking.

I should know better by now. I should recognize the signs and understand its strength. Somehow, I am still not used to this particular variety. Jealousy is universal. How might I learn to better mitigate it?

Another thing that is difficult to explain, though perhaps it is widely observed, is the way God often equips us, even for the smallest of trials, before we know we’ll need it.

I won’t go into detail here, but earlier this week, a woman at the shelter offered her mantra and it has been ringing in my mind:

“Space and grace. For others, and for yourself.”

I write this, not as an excuse nor with any veiled reproach, but to offer, in good faith, an acknowledgment. A confession, an apology, and a hope. There is much at work, and matters of the heart are so subtle and difficult to share. I don’t mean to isolate. It’s just not terribly becoming.

Tomorrow is a new day.