Grace is wrestling with my boys when the laundry begs to be folded.
Grace is taking a minute to breathe deep that crisp fall air, eyes closed and heart thankful.
Grace is letting him and her be who they are today--people, just like me, desperate for His fill.
Grace is forgiving and forgiving and forgiving and forgiving. Again.
Grace lays down all rights,
washes the betrayers feet,
and gives freely to the undeserving.
I'm under it.
Grace.
Grace.
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Linking up with my sweet friend, Emily Freeman, over at "chatting at the sky."
In response to her month of grace.
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