by: DEBORAH PEELE, PERIMETER SCHOOL FIFTH GRADE TEACHER

One day, as I was scrolling through Instagram, a post caught my eye. It was about "messy grace." We often talk about amazing grace (which it is!), but I had never considered the idea of grace being messy. This new perspective on grace deeply resonated with me as I reflected on this past year.

This year has been filled with grief - losing one of my best friends to cancer, feeling overwhelmed by a new job, and witnessing others close to me experience loss as well. Although I am finally starting to come up for air, my emotions are still raw, my mind is occasionally foggy, and my energy and motivation haven’t fully returned. Throughout this challenging season, I’ve had to rely heavily on the grace of God and the grace of others. I could no longer be the strong one helping everyone else. Instead, I was the one who needed help - help from family and friends to set up my classroom, help from coworkers to figure out what I was doing each day, and help from God just to get out of bed and show up for my coworkers and students. It was a season of profound hardship and humility.  

GLORY IN THE MUNDANE

Needing others’ grace means I wasn’t put together or at my best - I was struggling. It meant admitting that I was needy and messy. Allowing people into that mess was difficult, but it was also sacred. Through these painful moments, God was shaping me, molding me more into the image of Jesus. Inviting people into my pain helped me understand what the body of Christ is truly meant to be. As Christy Nockels says in her podcast, “There is glory in the mundane.” It’s in the ordinary tasks - the work, the dishes, the laundry, the conversations, the grief of living in a broken world - where God meets us. Whether through His Word, His presence, or His people, God shows up in our messy places and transforms ordinary moments into holy ones.

A posture of humility

To be honest, I had hoped to be “further along” in my grief journey by now. In my mind, that meant being less quick to cry, being able to help more, and needing less from others. But as I continue to wrestle with this, I’m beginning to realize that maybe I’m not meant to “have it all together.” Maybe I’m not meant to be “the strong one.” Perhaps I am meant to embrace a posture of humility, to lean into community, and to allow others into both my sorrows and my joys. Maybe I’m not supposed to “get back” to how life was before. Maybe I’m meant to find a new normal, one where I’m more dependent on God and others, less independent, less isolated, and no longer trying to take care of everything by myself.

Holy, worthy work

I know that God is using this past year to shape my heart, to make me more compassionate and better equipped to hold space for others and mourn with them. The humbling I’ve experienced is making me more like Jesus - more approachable and more available to be used for His kingdom.

As a community, can we come alongside those who are struggling? Can we share our mess with others? Can we bear one another’s burdens? Whether through discipleship groups, parents from the same classroom, neighbors, friends, or family members - could we be a people willing to step into the mess, walk alongside one another, and carry each other to Jesus? It’s humbling, it’s hard, but it’s also holy, worthy work.