This weekend I went to the Why Christian? conference in Chicago.
It was a space for the most marginalized in our society to tell their stories, and, then, articulate why they are still followers of the Christ. Even if the abuse they experienced came from the church.
Exclusion, rape, denial, silencing.
The stories were hard to hear. They were testimonies of beauty from ashes, and I began to get very tired. It is hard to know that on some level I have been the aggressor. In my privilege, I have been an instrument of harm.
Because our resources are finite, and if have more than I need, then someone else lacks.
But that made me think about grace. Grace is not corn or clean water or energy. There is always enough. This is the best news on a Monday morning that finds me feeling bruised, repentant, and, slightly, defensive.
What is grace?