I recently spent a week in Brussels, Belgium. I spent the week in a three-story, 17th century home with a few folks, locals, all researchers and professors. One morning I woke up to a mini-hullaballo taking place because one woman had been awarded an academic prize, including a small stipend, for a paper she’d written.

Normally, this chick is the kind of person my friend Rebecca would describe as “salty”: generally predisposed to crank and irritation.

But this morning, she was literally flushed with excitement. With joy and victory. Her housemates seemed pretty meh about the whole thing. But I asked her to tell me about the prize, and by about 30 seconds in I’d caught her exhilaration like it was contagious.

Mind you, this mood, which was so out of character for her, is basically how I feel when I roll out of bed most mornings. If she wanted to be exuberant with company, she had definitely chosen well to do it on a day I was in the house.

My heart nearly melted when she re-read the award email, smiled as broadly as humanly possible, looked up and said to me, with her Slovenian accent: “I feel like EVERYTHING is possible.”

Me: “YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS, honey. Work.”

Her: Visibly deflating. Sigh. “But I know that’s a lie.”

Me: Screech, pump the brakes, sister. “Nope. Not it’s not. Everything IS possible. I know. I’ve experienced it.”

Her housemate: *pointing at me, eye roll at the ready: “Remember, she’s American.”

Me: “Hey, guys? My great-great grandparents were slaves. I am a Black girl with braids in my hair, I had a kid when I was 17 years old. And here I am, fresh from island-hopping through Croatia, hanging out in Belgium, heading to Amsterdam. I travel the world when I want to. I do unreasonably fun work and make a ton of money. I eat beautiful things everyday, and every cell of my body cooperates with me – I’m in better health at 40 than most 20 year olds I meet. I have a gorgeous home, and am generally protected and provided for by the God who created the Universe. EVERYTHING, about my life is a miracle. Every single moment is the dream of my ancestors. So, yes. I’m American, and you know what? Even that is a wild blessing, come to think of it. But also everything actually is possible. You can’t tell me it’s not. Get it.”

Now, even in that moment, it did strike me that this was possibly a little intense for the breakfast table. But my experience has been that statistics and culture and what’s normal for your family and your friends will tell you to manage your expectations, and create a limited understanding of what’s possible for you. And that is one way to look at it. But it’s only one way.

It would be unconscionable for me to live the life I live every day and also believe that the limited-possibilty way is the only way. Because almost every single area of my life defies statistics and defies culture and defies what’s “normal” and defies “reasonable” expectations. And I am intensely aware of it and humbled and grateful for it. Deeply, deeply grateful.  

So, humor me. What if I’m right?  What if you’re a miracle? And what if the statistics about what’s possible don’t apply to you. What if the rules don’t apply?

I don’t believe they apply to me. And I don’t believe they don’t apply on grounds that I somehow deserve amazing things that others don’t. Nor do I believe this on grounds that I am just great, excellent, disciplined and brilliant (and cute), although I am all of those things.

But you can be all of those things and not experience supernatural health, prosperity and restoration. I was all of those things and had my entire ass handed to me in life. For real.

What I know beyond doubt is that the grace of God has shown up over and over and over again in my life. It’s what we call undeserved favor at church. I’ve experienced dozens, hundreds, probably thousands of circumstances, “coincidences”, synchronicities, opportunities, relationships and alignments sliding together over the years, all lining up in a way that all have worked together for my good.

And sure, I showed up. I show up, present tense, on the regular. I do the work. I go hard in the paint, as my ball-playing nieces say. I have a spirit of excellence. I am disciplined. I take risks. I work on myself. A lot. 

But it’s not all me. And thank God for that. 

God’s grace was when 16-year-old me went to see my high school principal in the Spring of my junior year. I went in to tell her I was pregnant and to ask for her advice. God’s grace was when she said: “I wasn’t planning to tell you this, but you’ve actually had enough credits to graduate for awhile now. You’ve been getting extra credits for all your AP Classes and those night classes you’ve been taking at the college.”

God’s grace abounded when she made a call to the local University and they immediately admitted me, on a full scholarship, on grounds of my GPA and her advocacy, no SAT necessary. It was definitely God’s grace when the University assigned me a Professor/Mentor who’d also been a teenage Mom. At our first meeting, this Mentor of mine told me she knew my 16-year-old, 6-month pregnant self would be going to graduate school, so she would be preparing me for that from day 1. And it was God’s grace every single day for years, when she did in fact prepare me and I did in fact get a Master’s degree, at 22 years old with a 6 year old son.

God’s grace was that time the registrar at the now-long-defunct Bakersfield School of Law receiving my Law School Admissions Test results, ringing me on the phone and breaking it down for me, saying “Honey, you scored at the 98%th percentile. Listen to me. YOU CAN’T GO TO SCHOOL HERE. You can go to school anywhere. Every school will let you in. Half of them will pay you to go. Pick where you want to be.” God’s grace fast-forwarded me, in that moment, from the likely Valedictorian of the Bakersfield School of Law to a full scholarship to UC Berkeley School of Law.

God’s grace was when I thought I was wrapping up a 3-month consulting gig at MyFitnessPal, presented the CEO with a proposed org chart and he said “you can hire anyone on this chart you want except the VP of Marketing, because that’s your job.” And when, after offering me that job six more times over the next six months, he said “Take this job. I’ll make it the best job you’ve ever had.” It was God’s grace when I believed him. And when we were acquired 2 years later, catching me up financially from being an effective-single Mom for years, from having been in the real estate business during the real estate recession, and much more.

This is just a few examples. I could literally do this all day.

Some people say they wish this whole grace thing was true, but struggle to wrap their heads around it. I encourage them not to bother, and to try wrapping their hearts around it instead. I know folks that struggle with the use of a word as simple as “grace” to indicate a phenomenon so out-of-our hands, so beyond the natural laws we all agree exist and so life-changing.

So let’s call it something fancy. I’m a marketer, after all; let’s “brand” it. I like to think of it as spiritual contrarianism.

What would happen if we experimented with this spiritual contrarianism for awhile? But like, only when it really, really serves us.

What if we decided to just flat-out disagree and stopped playing along every time culture says we shouldn’t be able to do something? Or that something isn’t really possible for you because you’re Black/white/male/female/too young/too fat/too aggressive or just too TOO much for people?

Or that we should fixate and ruminate and constantly complain about what’s wrong with people and the things that pain us? Or that we should outsource our peace and serenity and ability to fully be who we are to, say, ISIS or Donald Trump or the Drama of the Day, versus showing up, doing the responsible adult thing (e.g., helping refugees, voting, etc.) and then doing the work of living our lives to the best of our ability?

What if we turned this whole storyline around? What if we decided that we can actually experience some ease and joy regardless of our current circumstances and conditions? Actually, what if we decided that basically any circumstance we’re experiencing now could and even would turn around to our advantage?

What would it look like if we were able to feel that rush of All Things are Possible and Everything is Working out for Me all the time? Not based on the present conditions of our world. What if we decided, like we say at church, that praise precedes the victory, meaning you have to sit in a place of faith and belief that you will win in life before you actually can?

There are non-religious versions of this principle, too, if that’s your jam. Vibration precedes manifestation, for the woo woo. You must believe it before you can achieve it, for the more pragmatic.

Here’s what would happen. First off, we would just feel better a lot of the time than we do in our normal tendency to fixate and ruminate on what is, versus what is possible. And we wouldn’t lose anything by virtue of no longer waiting for the other shoe to drop or worrying about what bad could happen. The Bible poses a question we can all grasp the meaning of, regardless of faith: “ Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his lifespan?”

I’ll wait. . . . . mmmhmm. That’s what I thought. Me, either.

Real talk: what would happen if we practiced this spiritual contrarianism is something called transcendence. I like to think of this as opting out of unnecessary drama and beliefs that pain or limit us, just because we want to. I also like to think of it as opting into freedom, dwelling in possibility and allowing grace to track us down and do what it does.

We can do this, and have this. But we must be intentional about opting into possibility. We must be conscious about the words we use, especially the way we talk to and about ourselves. We must be intentional about the people we surround ourselves with, the content we take in. We must be disciplined about what we allow to take root in our spirit and fester, and about what hurts and experiences we excavate and release.

When I look in the mirror most mornings, after I admire my eyebrows and whisper sweet somethings in my own ear, something occurs to me. It occurs to me that most girls who look like me around the world could never dream of living the daily life I live. And I inwardly vow to make the most of it for myself and for all of them. And very, very often, I sing to myself this particular lyric of one of my favorite modern hymns, a song called Lord, Your Grace:

Lord Your grace

Covering me like a soft summer shower

Raining down on me

Goodness and mercy

Loving me daily

Forgiving me freely

 

As I look back over all the years that I made it through

I can’t imagine where I’d be now if it wasn’t for You

Why Your favor rests upon me I can never explain

But I’m so glad that I can say

Your grace in my life lasts forever

Your goodness and mercy and grace lasts forever

Your grace in my life lasts forever

Thanks, God. ~T

P.S.: I issued a 30 Day Writing Challenge for Conscious Leaders a few weeks back, and over 150 brilliant souls signed up! I decided to take the Challenge right along with them, and it’s been a profound journey for many of us. Most people are journaling or free-writing every day, privately. But I wrote this post on Day 6 of the Challenge. I’ll be doing another writing Challenge in January; click here to get on the list for the January Challenge.