It's okay

grace for those who are tired of being the "bigger person"

Most of us have been taught to extend grace to others, but not to ourselves.
Worse, we’ve been taught that this deprivation is a special form of piety.

It’s a kind of spiritual masochism, quietly taught in our Sunday Schools, where suffering without grace is mistaken for godliness.

But if we don’t know how to extend grace to ourselves, what exactly are we giving others?

Maybe it’s not grace, but our resolve to look gracious.
Maybe it’s not mercy, but make-believe.
Maybe it’s not kindness, but the quiet contempt we feel for having to be the “bigger person.”

Grace is supposed to be like a garland of flowers, a sweet array of aromas. Something that lifts the fog and gives rest to the weary.

But if we don’t know how to treat ourselves with grace, all we can offer others is the flower without the scent, the weariness rather than the rest.

It’s what happens when it looks like Christianity on the outside but is missing Christ on the inside.

We’ve been sold a false bill of goods, indoctrinated to believe that if we pretend long enough, then our righteousness will surely exceed that of the Pharisees. However, it’s a brand of Christianity that leaves us feeling fake, hollow, and alone.

So what is the gospel for those who can’t muster the strength to show themselves some grace?

What is the gospel for the single parent trying to keep it all together? What is the gospel for the post-grad that hates their career but can’t stand to be a disappointment, and so they refuse to take a chance on themselves?

What is the gospel for the middle school student eating lunch alone at the table, wondering why this “making friends thing” works for everyone but them?

What is the gospel for the church leader who has been taught that smiling through the pain is what “mature discipleship” is all about?

The gospel is this: it’s okay.
Your burdens can’t win or lose the day, so you don’t have to hold them as if they will.

Despite the hurt you have experienced, there is enough courage to trust in love again, and that includes loving yourself.

The word “failure” that feels forever etched into the story of your life has been taken and carved into the hands and feet of your Savior, who washes your wounds and whispers gently, “Behold, I am making you new”.

The first step toward becoming a truly gracious person isn’t gritting your teeth harder to give grace away, but learning to believe that we are already held by it, in Christ, and that it’s okay.

You have a God who would rather weep than force a smile, and either way, He will call you out of the grave.