Today’s Reading: Genesis 31-33, Matthew 9
I missed two days of writing.
And strangely enough, I think that belongs in today’s reflection.
When I started this journey, my idea was simple: spend an hour every day reading the Bible and then write about what I noticed.
But I know myself.
Something that begins as something meaningful can very easily become something I believe I have to accomplish perfectly.
The first night I was simply exhausted and didn’t write, I was actually proud of myself.
Because I let myself be exhausted.
I didn’t turn this into another obligation.
I reminded myself that I started this because I wanted a genuine spiritual journey – not a forced requirement that says I must publish a blog post every single day or I’ve somehow failed.
Then I missed another day.
And I’m learning to give myself grace there too.
Because here’s what I realized:
I didn’t stop the journey just because I stopped documenting it.
I was still praying.
Still reading.
Still listening.
Still noticing.
And maybe that’s part of what I’m supposed to be learning too.
If God Gives Us Grace, Why Don’t We?
One of the things that has continued standing out throughout Genesis is that God works through imperfect people.
Not once they become perfect.
While they’re still learning.
While they’re still making mistakes.
While they’re still growing.
I’ve written about that several times now, but this time it made me turn the question toward myself:
If that’s how God looks at us, who are we to demand perfection from ourselves?
Why do we beat ourselves up for needing rest?
For getting something wrong?
For not handling something exactly the way we wish we had?
For being human?
Maybe giving ourselves grace isn’t making excuses.
Maybe it’s acknowledging that growth was never supposed to require perfection.
And that brought me directly into something else I’ve been praying about lately.
Forgiveness.
What Are We Still Carrying?
Before I ever started rereading the Bible or writing these entries, one of my prayers had already been about forgiveness.
I’ve specifically asked God to help me forgive the people in my life toward whom I still carry resentment.
Because I know something intellectually that I’m trying to live more fully in my heart:
When we refuse to forgive someone, who continues carrying the pain?
Usually, we do.
The other person may be going about their life completely unaware of the conversations we’re still having with them inside our heads.
Meanwhile, we’re carrying the anger.
The resentment.
The hurt.
The replaying.
And I’ve always believed deeply in second chances.
If God gave His Son so that we could be forgiven for our sins, how can I accept that kind of grace while deciding someone else isn’t worthy of mine?
That doesn’t mean pretending something didn’t hurt.
It doesn’t mean allowing harmful behavior back into our lives.
And it doesn’t mean forgiveness automatically restores every relationship to what it once was.
But it does make me ask:
How long do I want to keep carrying something that is hurting me more than the person I’m refusing to forgive?
And then I read about Jacob and Esau.
Jacob Was Still Carrying It
Their reunion in Genesis 33 hit differently because of everything I’ve already been thinking about.
Jacob had spent years away.
And when he learned Esau was approaching with hundreds of men, his mind immediately went to fear.
He prepared.
He divided his family.
He sent gifts ahead.
He imagined what might happen.
He was preparing himself for the consequences of something that had happened years earlier.
And then Esau saw him.
Esau ran toward him.
Not to attack him.
To embrace him.
They wept together.
And I couldn’t help thinking about how often we do exactly what Jacob did.
Sometimes other people have forgiven us and we haven’t forgiven ourselves.
Sometimes God has extended grace and we’re still mentally preparing ourselves for punishment.
Sometimes we’re carrying something years after everyone else has put it down.
And sometimes we’re the Esau in the story – the person who has to decide whether we’re going to continue carrying what happened or finally release it.
Maybe forgiveness isn’t only something we give another person.
Sometimes it’s something we desperately need to allow ourselves to receive.
And Then There Is Comparison
I think there’s another way we make grace harder for ourselves today.
Comparison.
And social media has given us endless opportunities for it.
We see someone else’s life.
Someone else’s body.
Someone else’s marriage.
Someone else’s career.
Someone else’s children.
Someone else’s success.
Someone else’s faith.
And suddenly we’re measuring our real, imperfect lives against a tiny piece of someone else’s.
I think about our kids especially.
They are growing up with comparison available every second of every day.
And maybe that’s another reason this lesson about grace matters so much.
If God isn’t demanding perfection from imperfect people who are still becoming, why are we?
And why are we demanding it from ourselves?
The Words Don’t Just Inform Us
I listened to something recently that discussed humility, service, truth, and freedom in Christ.
It immediately brought me back to the kindness reflection I wrote earlier in this journey.
Jesus repeatedly shows us a completely different understanding of power.
Mark 10:45 tells us that He came not to be served, but to serve.
And in John 13, Jesus washes His disciples’ feet.
Think about that.
If Jesus Himself demonstrated humility and service, where do we get the authority to believe we’re somehow above another person?
To judge their worth?
To decide someone is beneath us?
To believe our mistakes deserve grace but theirs don’t?
It keeps bringing me back to something I’ve believed throughout these readings:
The guidance is there.
Kindness.
Forgiveness.
Humility.
Service.
Grace.
Faith.
If we truly understood those things – and actually lived them – how different could this world look?
And maybe that’s the difference between simply reading Scripture and allowing it to transform us.
The words don’t only inform.
They transform.
My Circumstances Haven’t Changed – But I Have
That brings me back to something I wrote in my last entry.
When I first found God while incarcerated, my physical circumstances hadn’t immediately changed.
But something inside me had.
I had peace.
And now, eighteen years later, I’m recognizing that same idea from a completely different perspective.
The uncertainty I’m currently living through hasn’t disappeared.
I still don’t know what happens next with work.
I’m still a mom navigating normal teenage things with my kids.
I’m still human.
I still get tired.
I still have fear.
I still miss blog posts.
But after only a couple of weeks of intentionally reading, praying, writing, and noticing, I can already tell that I’m responding differently.
And maybe even more importantly, this journey is helping me recognize how much I’ve already changed over the last eighteen years.
I’m connecting pieces I hadn’t connected before.
I’m recognizing why certain responses have changed.
I’m seeing how the things I’ve learned through faith have shaped the way I lead, parent, love, forgive, and move through uncertainty.
I’m seeing growth.
Not perfection.
Growth.
Keep Noticing the Good, Too
There have still been Godwinks throughout these uncertain weeks.
Some have happened at work – even tiny moments that remind me why I do what I do and why it means so much to me.
And there have been others in my personal life.
Last night, my son came to me with an update about something he had been really worried about.
Something that had caused stress and uncertainty suddenly seemed to be turning into a blessing.
He was happy.
He was confident.
And listening to him, something inside me immediately said:
Notice this too.
Don’t only notice what you’re afraid might happen.
Notice what’s going right.
Notice the prayers that look different today than they did yesterday.
Notice the growth.
Notice the peace.
Notice the things you once feared that somehow worked themselves out.
Maybe noticing God isn’t only about recognizing extraordinary moments.
Maybe it’s also about training our hearts to recognize the good that fear would otherwise make us overlook.
What I’m Beginning to Understand
I started this journey wanting to understand the Bible differently than I had before.
I wanted to see what stood out now.
I wanted to ask questions.
I wanted to understand God more.
But I think something else is happening.
I’m not only noticing the words differently.
I’m noticing myself differently.
I’m seeing how far I’ve already come.
I’m seeing where I still need to grow.
I’m seeing things I need to release.
I’m seeing places where I need to forgive.
I’m learning to extend some of the grace I so easily believe other people deserve to myself.
And I’m becoming more confident talking about what I believe instead of allowing fear of judgment to keep it quiet.
Maybe that’s what transformation actually looks like.
Not waking up one day completely changed.
Not becoming perfect.
But allowing God to keep working on your heart – one lesson, one mistake, one act of forgiveness, one moment of grace, one faithful step at a time.
I still can’t see the whole picture.
But I’m starting to become okay with that.
Because maybe the purpose isn’t always seeing what’s ahead.
Maybe sometimes it’s looking backward long enough to recognize:
The words didn’t change.
I did.
Questions I’m Leaving With
Who am I still carrying resentment toward – and what would happen inside me if I finally released it?
Where am I demanding perfection from myself when God is asking for growth?
What have I already been forgiven for that I’m still punishing myself over?
Am I reading God’s Word simply to understand it – or am I allowing it to change the way I live?
And when fear tells me to look for everything that could go wrong, can I intentionally stop and notice what’s already going right?
Today’s Takeaway
Grace isn’t permission to stop growing.
Maybe grace is what gives us enough freedom to keep growing without hating ourselves for not being finished yet.
Until next time… keep noticing.