forgotten.

"Draw upon the resources of My grace." 

My souls breathes this in as if its very life is on the line.

Forgotten. I've forgotten to count.

When I stop counting His grace gifts, the air my soul breathes runs low.

When I forget to count, when I forget to seek, when I forget to truly see through a lens of grace...

I forget everything.

And then, once again, I hear His sweet and gentle voice, an extraordinary Savior in the midst of drowning in the mundane:

"You are my precious and beloved daughter. Nothing can change your standing with Me. I love you and I am always with you, yes even in the ordinary. That's why You must continue to seek My grace gifts - so that you know I am there - waiting in the little details all around you. Open your eyes, My beloved - and see."

My mind wanders to the story in Mark 8 where Jesus led a blind man, by the hand, outside of his village to heal him. I am this blind man, desperate to truly see but unable to see past the distortion, grasping the strong hand of the One who truly heals. First, Jesus puts His healing hands on the blind man, and asks: "Do you see anything?" He responds: "I see people; they look like trees walking around."

"Once more Jesus puts his hands on the man's eyes. Then his eyes were opened, his sight restored, and he saw everything clearly." (v. 25) Sight is grace. But blindness is also grace. Because how can I truly appreciate what it means to see, unless first I am blind. How can I truly know what it means to look through the lens of grace, unless I first confront my distorted vision?

I had forgotten.

But Jesus is always reminding me.

"open your eyes, My beloved - and see."

This is grace.