What if grace shows up best in the moments we don’t?
I fumbled something important the other day.
Words I meant to carry with care.
A moment that felt sacred.
Something I didn’t want to get wrong.
And I did.
I stumbled. I botched it. I lost my place.
And in that split-second, the flood of self-judgment rushed in:
“You should’ve done better.”
“You should’ve been ready.”
“You ruined it.”
But then, just as quickly — something softer broke through:
You were there.
You showed up.
You were present enough to participate.
And maybe that’s the real miracle.
Because fumbles don’t mean failure.
They mean you were in it.
Not hiding. Not spectating.
But showing up for something real.
And the thing is —
a fumble is momentary.
But grace is not.
That moment where you trip over what you meant to get right?
It doesn’t erase the whole.
It just reminds you that this was real —
and that the sacred doesn’t fall apart when you do.
In fact…
maybe fumbling the most sacred part is exactly what someone needed to see.
Not because it was polished,
but because it was honest.
Because it showed just how big grace really is.
We talk a lot about perfection like it’s the goal.
But here’s the truth:
Perfectionism isn’t just exhausting — it’s harmful.
It robs us of connection.
It silences us.
It tells us to sit out unless we’re sure we’ll get it right.
And I get it.
I so get it.
Because letting go of perfection isn’t easy.
It’s not some brave one-time decision — it’s a daily wrestle.
A thousand micro-losses.
A quiet panic that whispers,
“Sure, there’s grace… but maybe not for that.”
And you know what?
Quieting that voice is a form of rebellion.
Every time you show up anyway —
every time you risk being seen in the middle of the mess —
every time you say, “Maybe grace is big enough for this, too,”
you are rebelling against the lie that says you’re the exception to God’s mercy.
That lie is loud.
But grace is louder.
This isn’t about getting everything right.
It’s about honoring what matters enough to risk getting it wrong.
And if that’s you right now —
if you’ve fumbled something important,
missed a line,
tripped over a feeling you weren’t ready to say out loud —
let this be your reminder:
You don’t need to be perfect to carry purpose.
You don’t need to perform to be present.
You just need to be brave enough to fumble.
Because grace can handle it.
And often? That’s where it shows up best.
But here’s the deeper truth:
Showing up isn’t a soft idea.
It’s not passive. It’s not vague. It’s not an Instagram caption.
Showing up — really showing up — is work.
It’s the quiet resilience of coming back after disappointment.
It’s the mercy of letting yourself begin again.
It’s the accountability of saying,
“I didn’t get it right… but I’m still in this.”
And it’s not just about you.
Because when you fumble and stay, you give other people permission to do the same.
You crack open the myth of perfection and make space for something holy:
presence without performance.
That’s how healing happens.
That’s how trust gets built.
That’s how grace becomes more than a word.
So keep showing up —
not perfectly,
but on purpose.
Because that’s where the real work — and the real wonder — begins.
Be First to Comment