grace

I don't understand grace. I don't think I need to, but it still befuddles me the same. I used to think I understood grace (I would tell you that grace meant you got stuff you didn't deserve, and didn't work for). But I've never come as close to understanding grace as lately.

Before I went off to mosey around and "have fun", and take part in the things I thought I wanted to, I was volunteering/working for More2Life!, a youth development program run by The Pregnancy Center, that talks in schools about making good choices regarding drugs, alcohol, and sex outside of marriage. I was passionate about it, and loved helping the students. Then, I went and made all the choices I told them all not to.

Recently, I started volunteering there again. The first day back was awkward, at least for me. I had tattoos, my nose pierced, and was carrying the weight of shame for all the stuff I had done. The director of the program took me into her office, sat me down, and asked me what had happened. I was really honest. I told her everything that happened, everything I did, all the mistakes I made. And when I was done my spiel, had shown her my tattoos and explained that I can't deal with my problems so I pierce/tattoo my body, she smiled and said "Well, it's good to have you back." and launched into the ways she needed me to help out around More2Life!.

I was shell shocked. I had just spilled my guts, all the stupid stuff I had done, all the ways I had been a giant hypocrite. And she didn't look at the things I had done. She looked past all of that, into me, and saw something worthy. Now I'm working in a mentoring program with them. We talk to youth about being leaders in the community, and I'm going to get trained to teach the course on drugs and alcohol. A few days ago, they offered me a job there as a full time educator.

I don't deserve any of this. I don't understand any of it. I am humbled, grateful, and amazed.

I thought I understood grace, but I have only scratched the surface.

sarah∞mae