Elusive Grace

I have always enjoyed a challenge, but I was a bit daunted by the thought of defining what the word grace means to me. When I hear the word, images come to mind: Grace Kelley, Amazing Grace, and dinner grace to name a few. I obviously needed a direction, so logically I began with a dictionary. Webster’s Abridged definition of grace runs fully 3 column inches, in 6-point typeface, with no less than 11 possible meanings. Though heartened by the fact that even Webster finds the word grace enigmatic, it did nothing to help me. I then remembered the collection of witticisms and quotes plastered on my den wall. In the center of this maelstrom was a copy of The Desiderata. After re-reading this missive, I realized that grace is not so much quantifiable as it is a subtle undercurrent that affects how we approach life. Sometimes grace seems not to be present, other times it has a pull so strong it cannot be ignored. Grace is not the grandiose things we do in life, or the beautiful things we have in life, but the ability to sustain and create beauty when all selfish motives are stripped away.

Grace exists when people choose to ignore differences rather than underscore them. There is no grace in a rich man donating a wing to a hospital. Generosity, compassion, some ego – yes, but not grace. Grace is when that man plays a game of chess every week for years with my father, for no reason other than a mutual love of the game.

Grace is present when a weary single mother finds her power shut off, and to comfort her child, smiles, lights every candle in the house and makes shadow puppets on the wall.

I see Grace in my friend Michelle, who has the humility to believe that something exists in this universe that is much bigger than us. She does not preach or pass judgment, or feel the need to argue righteousness. She does not have to, she is so confident in her beliefs internally that she exudes her own grace externally. That beauty shows in everything she does.

I mentioned selfish motives in my thesis. I define these more specifically as human vices like anger, sloth, avarice, vanity and envy, which we all can succumb to at some point in our lives. Grace cannot manifest itself when these vices are present, but like darkness and light, grace cannot exist without their opposing context to frame it.

Grace is a subtlety; an almost divine sense of self and purpose that needs us to simply allow it to exist. As an undercurrent, grace cannot be acted upon, but it can flow through us. We cannot call on it, or find it; the harder we try, the more elusive it becomes. Insecure people use vices as pedestals, so good intentions are often seen as selfish acts. If we could just remember that grace is always there, waiting for us – and our frailties – to step aside, maybe we could find and create the selfless beauty in life that is Grace.