Grace and a Friend’s Prayer

“How did things go?” my friend asked. It had been awhile, but I knew what she was asking about. I recreated scenes, elaborating on interactions, falling into the story as I told it. And in the telling, I remembered the moment of insight and the opening of my mind. The shift. And I interrupted the storytelling to say, “It was grace. That’s all I can say. I realized . . .” More story. More details.

On the other end of the phone, my friend, who had been listening patiently, when given a chance to respond, said, “That’s what I was praying for.” Praying? For me? I had not known, had not even imagined. I wished I could see the expression on my face as I began to connect the dots. She continued, “I could see how stuck you were. I saw the hard line of your mouth, like . . . ” Now it was my turn to listen.

So, she had prayed, and I had experienced grace. The story she had been waiting to hear had been told in one word, grace. Still, when I heard my friend say to me on the phone, “That’s what I was praying for,” I was challenged to re-write my story. Now, as I recall this moment of grace, I see it actually began a couple days earlier, with the beam of love and light radiating from my friend to me when she saw that I was stuck.

In this particular instance of insight, I was aware of the movement of the Spirit and was able to acknowledge the role of grace in the moment, something which, I’m sorry to say, is not always the case. Sometimes I do not notice the grace, or may even take credit which does not belong to me.

Grace is a gift. Unearned. Undeserved. Unexplainable. These descriptors are necessary in a culture with such a strong work ethic, a culture that believes we get what we deserve and we earn what we get. Or is it even deeper than culture? Is it simply human nature?

This experience reminds me of how connected we all are and how each of us impacts the other, for good or for ill. A practice that is different than prayer, but with a similar effect, is described as seeing in your mind’s eye yourself as whole, happy, healthy and exalted and seeing others in the same way. This practice gives us and others space to be who we are and to grow and become who we want or need to be. This is the kind of spaciousness my friend gave to me when she prayed.

When we hold each other up with compassion and forgiveness, we knit together a loving community as naturally as a spider emits the strands of her web.

I wonder how many times the door to grace was cracked open by someone else’s compassion for me.

The next time you notice yourself judging another, might you consider choosing compassion instead?

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