We have come to expect so much these days. It is as if we overcompensate for fear lest even our most basic of needs will not be met. So when we are gently met with grace we almost don’t know how to respond.

I learned long ago that others’ kindnesses towards me are as a result of who they are, not because I am deserving of it. That is what grace is, after all, isn’t it? Something that floats down to us, undemanded, often undeserving, but with something important for us to learn.

It comes to us in the oddest places– when we are toting a cumbersome load of shopping bags, fumbling for our keys struggling to open a door and often unseen the door opens for us because someone noticed.

We sit, waiting in the emergency lane or the on-ramp while others zip by us and a car slows so we can merge into traffic. Someone noticed.

During a heavy storm in the night we hear limbs crashing to the ground, next morning we awaken to find they have all been placed by the curb to be picked up. Someone noticed.

A woman runs frantically into the library, her eyes laser-like scouring the area when a librarian, tearful child in tow, sticky lollipop in hand, smiles at the harried, beside-herself with apologies mom and hands her the child. Someone noticed.

Every day we are overwhelmed with receiving moments of grace, sometimes the benefactor, sometimes the beneficiary.

Either way, someone notices.

Psalm 97


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