Robin’s Writings

A Little Bit of Grace

People are always talking about being grateful. It has become the little black dress —appropriate for absolutely everything and spoken whenever you can’t think of anything else to say. Someone took your parking space? Be grateful you have a car. You lost your pickleball match ? Be grateful you are healthy and have the time to play the game. It’s all good but how about adding a dose of grace to this mindset.

Grace suggests that something good has floated into your life not because you earned it with picture perfect behavior or spot on planning, but because the something bigger than you— God, fate, the universe, take your pick—decided to toss you a tiny, shimmering gift. Grace is gratitude and a whole lot more.

I’m so taken with grace that I carry around a small notebook—yes, an actual physical notebook, the kind that would appall a minimalist—and I jot down the little instances when grace taps me on the shoulder. A stranger holding the door and happy to do so. An “how are you?” said in a way that they really seem to care about the answer. A moment of kindness so small you’d miss it if you weren’t paying attention. Sometimes I’m part of the moment; sometimes I’m just the lucky bystander.

Now, I happen to connect these graces to God. Eighty-two percent of the world believes we were shaped by something bigger than ourselves, so I know I’m not exactly going out on a theological limb here. But even if you fall squarely in the other 18%, there’s another reason to try this practice, one that has nothing to do with divine credit.

Grace changes how you see the world.

Which is really good because our little corner of the galaxy can use a little help right now. The world feels like it’s running on low battery and high drama. It feels like most everyone is short-fused, over-stimulated and sort of edgy. When you train your mind to look for grace—even the teeny-tiny kind—you start to notice that the world isn’t only a mess. It’s also full of small, astonishing goodness that just refuses to quit.

So here’s my challenge, and it doesn’t involve yoga, kale, or downloading an app: for the next seven nights, before you fall asleep, think of three moments of grace from your day. Three. That’s it. See if something inside you doesn’t shift, even slightly, like a window that’s been stuck for years and suddenly opens.

It might just change everything. And let me know how it goes. I care.