It is Easter Sunday morning. Early. For me, anyway. I tend to be a nightowl. But this morning I am unable to sleep, so I am up wandering my apartment. I think about this week and how I got here, to this spiritual place. I didn't really do anything to get me here, and yet, I got to be a part of the journey. That is the gift of grace. I didn't "do" grace. I didn't invent it. But here I am.

Thank you, Jesus, for your exquisite, mysterious gift.