Faith Over Chaos

Have you ever really stopped to think about grace? I got one of those mighty nudges about it this morning—the kind that won’t leave you alone. The kind that sits in your chest like a song someone sang in the morning meeting and now it’s stuck on repeat.

Grace is one of those words with so many layers that trying to explain it feels slippery. Maybe that’s because the One who does grace best is the same One who keeps pouring it over me every time I—well—mess up again.

Is it favor? Love? Kindness? A freely given gift? Honestly, it’s all of the above. And God hands it out better than Oprah giving away cars. You get grace, you get grace, you get grace! Except His grace doesn’t come with a tax bill.

Paul understood grace better than most. This is the same man who once hunted down the followers of Jesus and then became the one preaching the loudest about mercy and forgiveness. When he talks about grace in Romans 5:15–17, he isn’t speaking theoretically—he’s speaking as someone who received it in embarrassing abundance.

Adam’s one choice opened the door to sin. Jesus’ one choice opened the floodgates to grace—overflowing, abundant, freely given. Paul calls it a free gift again and again, like he wants to make sure we don’t miss it. Those who receive this “abundance of grace,” he says, actually get to reign in life. Not limp through it. Reign.

Grace doesn’t just clean up your mess. Grace hands you back your identity, your authority, and your place at the table.

And here’s the part that always gets me: if God pours out grace like that—freely and without hesitation—what does that mean for the way we treat people? Receiving grace is beautiful. Giving grace? That’s where it stretches us.

I’ve been a nurse long enough to know we don’t always do this well. We even have a saying: “nurses eat their young.” It’s that tendency to forget how clueless we were as new grads, and instead of offering patience, we pounce. We correct. We criticize. In other words… we don’t give grace. And the church can fall into the same pattern.

We pray for years for a loved one to find Jesus, and when they finally do, we expect instant maturity. We quote Scripture at them like they’ve been reading it for decades. We forget what spiritual “new grad” energy feels like—the questions, the confusion, the baby steps.

Where is the grace?

If Paul—a former persecutor turned preacher—could receive grace in embarrassing abundance and then extend it to others, surely we can learn to do the same. Not because people always deserve it, but because grace was never meant to stop with us. It’s meant to flow through us.

So what does giving grace look like in real life?

It looks like remembering how long you prayed for that loved one—and then giving them room to grow once they finally said yes to Jesus. It means resisting the urge to expect instant transformation. New believers don’t wake up the next morning knowing how to act, talk, or think like someone who’s been walking with God for decades. Grace says, “I’m grateful you’re here. Take your time. I’ll walk with you.” Grace was never meant to be a keepsake we tuck away for ourselves. It’s a gift we receive with open hands and then learn — sometimes awkwardly, sometimes reluctantly — to pass along. And honestly, some days we do it beautifully, and other days we’re one eye‑roll away from flunking the assignment. But the more we practice it, the more we start to look like the One who gave it to us first.

So here’s to slowing down, softening up, and remembering what it felt like to be new. Here’s to choosing patience over pressure, compassion over correction, and relationship over being right. May we walk beside people the same way Jesus walks beside us — steady, gentle, and full of grace… even when we’re a handful.

Helping you find peace in the garden again—where God’s grace meets you so you can carry it to someone else.

Allow yourself to reflect on the journey — yours and theirs — and the grace required for both.

1. Where have I received grace recently that I didn’t deserve — and how did it change me?
2. Who in my life might need more patience, understanding, or space to grow?
3. What expectations am I placing on someone that I didn’t meet when I was new in my own faith?
4. Which relationships feel tense or pressured — and how might grace soften them?
5. Where do I need to slow down and remember that transformation takes time?