Grace.

Whether or not it is the right request, it’s pretty easy to ask God for things. The need presents itself, we make the petition. Simple.

I remember being quite agitated that morning. I ached for solitude. As I stirred from sleep I had this deep yearning to cry. The problem was that he was taking a long time to leave the house. I was on sick leave so I was going to be home anyway. Maybe he always took this long, I don’t know. What I did know was that I was dangerously close to tears and there was absolutely no way that I would or could let them drop in front of him. I wasn’t feeling tenacious enough for his usual ridicule, I wasn’t feeling strong enough for his customary debasement. Not today. Not this morning. I had no fight.

The front door closed. The first tear slid free and he hadn’t even started the car yet. Then the others gushed out soaking my pillow. No, I wasn’t crying. I was mourning because of the life I had. I was in sorrow knowing I had made the biggest blunder of my existence. I was weeping because I knew my marriage couldn’t be fixed. I was distraught because in life there is no reset button. I wept.

Time to pray. But what should I say? How can I ask when I got me here in the first place? I excused the red flags, I ignored advice. No one was responsible for my decision to marry him except me. This is the awesome beauty of grace. He gives it because we don’t deserve it. Even if I felt I didn’t earn it, grace would still be extended to me.

My prayer was very simple that morning, “God . . . help me, please save me”. ‘If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans’ (Romans 8:26 The Message Bible).

2 thoughts on “Grace.

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