According to my unscientific observations, clumsiness is inherited. My mom inherited the clumsiness gene, passed it along to me, and I’ve passed it along to my daughter.  

 

Graceless describes the females in my family.

 

I remember being frustrated when my parents said I couldn’t ride my bike to school. It didn’t dawn on me that they were trying to protect me, not from strangers, but from myself.

 

Of course, I often rode around the neighborhood. One spring day, I bicycled around my block, enjoying the feeling of fresh air blowing through my hair, the sun warming my face, and the beauty of the sky. Suddenly, BOOM! I ran into a parked car. I picked myself up from the ground, pretended to check the tires on the vehicle, then zoomed off, hoping no one had observed my graceless fall.

 

One of my more embarrassing episodes of clumsiness occurred in front of a large audience. My husband and I, along with 30 other missionaries, received an invitation to speak at a banquet for senior citizens. With delicious food, delightful conversation, it looked to be a fantastic night. After dinner, all the missionaries gathered at the front of the room for a question and answer time. A set of risers with chairs placed on them awaited us. I confess I bolted to the top riser to sit and hopefully hide from questions.

 

The host introduced us and then instructed us to sit down. As I sat down, my chair scooted back. In the flash of an eye, my chair and I tumbled backward off the top riser, into the decorative ficus tree and cute picket fence, and onto the floor. So much for hiding from the audience.

 

Trying to recover, I wrestled free of the ficus tree, pulled leaves from my hair, and sprang up from the floor, gasping, “I’m okay. I’m okay.” Red-faced, I limped around the riser, praying for the rapture to occur and remove me from the situation. Thankfully, a kind soul moved my chair to solid ground next to the risers. Afterward, a sweet little lady came and softly whispered in my ear, “Don’t worry, dear, we didn’t see a thing when your skirt flew up in the air.” This particular incident may have created my aversion to skirts, dresses, and risers.

 

I’ve always dreamed of being graceful. Like a ballerina, floating gracefully across the stage, arms extended, effortlessly leaping and gliding. Instead, I trip and fall through life. Often on my face.

 

After years of trying to fix myself, I accepted the fact that I am clumsy. Graceless. I’ve learned to laugh at my pratfalls.

 

Recently, while strolling through one of my favorite shops, a sign caught my eye.

 

 

Walk in grace.  I realized I can’t fix myself.  But God gave me the gift of grace. In other words, He gave me something I didn’t deserve. He saved me, adopted me, and made me a co-heir with Jesus.

 

 In 2 Corinthians 12:9, Paul wrote these words about God’s grace. “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”  Through my weakness, God’s power can be displayed. YES! I can boast in my weakness, even my clumsiness!!

 

In Matthew, Jesus extended the invitation to “Walk with me. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. Keep company with Me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” (Matthew 11:29-30, The Message). In order to walk in grace, I must walk with Jesus in obedience and learn from Him.

 

Then, as I walk forward in His grace, I feel compelled to extend grace. To share God’s amazing grace with every person who crosses my path.

 

So today, even as I trip over my own feet, I can walk in grace as a daughter of God, and in turn, I can extend grace to others.

 

So join me in my daily prayer. 

 

Father, remind me to walk in grace today.