I find God’s grace in the hard moments and the soft ones. I find it in holding scared children tight against my chest and whispering reassurances as I take them from terrifying situations into safer ones. I find it in sharing a cup of coffee with a friend having a bad day. I find it in my kitchen, making breakfast and offering comfort while my friend sits at my counter sobbing and telling me about her struggles with her marriage and children.
I find God’s forgiveness peeling socks off the feet of homeless men and replacing them with clean ones. I find it in bandaging a neighbor’s cut, or wrapping a stranger’s sprained ankle. I find it in helping someone leave an abusive situation. I find it in singing children lullabies to drown out the sound of distant gunfire.
I find God’s love in having the hard discussions, in telling people the truth, even when it makes them mad. In loving them, even when they hate me. In doing the kind things, even when they aren’t the nice things. I find it in listening to the memories that keep them up all night, that leave them crying in the dark, that make it hard to keep going, to heal, to move forward, and I find it in holding them and promising them that I love them anyway, even when they aren’t perfect.
I find my faith wading through some of the worst things this world has to offer, and knowing that I can’t really fix anything, or change most things. I find it knowing I’m fighting a losing battle but fighting it anyway because even if I can’t ever erase the pain and undo all the bad people have done to each other, I can meet the people I do meet with compassion, and kindness, and love. That’s my faith, and that’s where I find God.
Not in a church or a mosque or a temple, not in the words written in a book, but in people.
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