There is grace on your life; I see it, even if you don’t. It’s grace that makes the corner of your lips rise again into a sweet smile, when the night before all they did was taste bitter salty tears. It’s grace that makes you stand firm in hope, when it looks like hope is being slayed. It’s grace that makes you reach out in tender expectation, when your arms tremble with fear. And it’s grace that erases your repeated mistakes, even when they’re black as tar and the same time and time again. This is the gift of grace.
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