Grace

Grace. I thought I knew what that word meant. After all, I had heard it mentioned in that old hymn since I was a child. However, I can’t say I had even a nodding acquaintance with its meaning for many years.

You see, as an alcoholic, most of my waking hours were spent trying to find a way to get what I wanted. There was no room for grace. That was for saints, and those defeated sinners who came crawling back to God because they had nowhere else to go. And sadly, that was not magically taken out of me just because I got sober.

So what brought about the change from a selfish and self-centered man to one who cares deeply about others, is willing to forgive, and chooses the way of grace? Oh, now that’s a story all right—and it changed the way I see both failure and hope today.

Many of us who come into recovery carry deep shame over our broken promises and the damage we’ve done to our relationships with family and friends. The lost opportunities and the years spent hurting ourselves and others weigh heavily on us even as we try to repair the damage. Many of us describe our disease as something that wants us dead and works day and night to prove that we will never change, never recover—so what’s the point of trying?

While grace does not deny those realities, it insists on the truth that we are all more than the worst things we have done. And we experience grace when others who understand our addiction choose forgiveness and compassion over condemnation.

I was deathly afraid of being judged by others, but when I found other alcoholics in recovery, I found people willing to listen, encourage, and walk beside me through those difficult early days of sobriety.

Grace also reshapes relationships with family members. Alcoholism brings distrust, fear, anger, and exhaustion. Our loved ones may have endured years of chaos, dishonesty, and emotional absence. But while recovery does not instantly erase those wounds, grace allows the healing to begin. The family members who extend patience while healthy trust is rebuilt are a powerful force in helping us to regain stability and motivation.

Amazingly, we can choose to extend grace to them, as well, recognizing that they have their own pain and limitations from living through our addiction. Grace creates room for honest amends, slow reconciliation, and the understanding that healing happens gradually over time. We learn that trust is not given. Trust is earned.

In the workplace, many employers choose to support us in recovery by offering treatment leave, accountability, or a second chance. These attitudes help restore dignity and purpose to those of us who already feel defeated. Co-workers who encourage sobriety also make an enormous difference, and our recovery is often strengthened when we feel like we still have value and something meaningful to contribute. Grace does not remove accountability, but balances it with the belief that change is possible!

However, the most important grace we ever receive is the grace of God. Human forgiveness and support matter deeply, but God’s grace reaches into our deepest pockets of guilt, shame, and hopelessness—those places that cause us to believe that we can never truly be healed.

Honestly, the greatest struggle I’ve ever had in recovery has been with my sense of worth. I found it difficult to believe I would ever be worthy of love, forgiveness, or a new beginning. Yet when I desperately clung to the truth that I was loved by God—and that He was willing to die for me, that changed everything. I was not loved because I had earned it, but because of His mercy and compassion. And from that point on, the way I saw myself and my future began to change. Instead of living under constant condemnation, I began living with gratitude, humility, and hope.

Something powerful happened when I became aware that I was the recipient of grace. It awakened a deep desire in me to extend grace to others. Those who have been forgiven much tend to become more forgiving. Those who have been shown patience often become more patient when others struggle and fail. In recovery, this can be seen when sober alcoholics encourage those who relapse, or simply sit beside the one who feels broken and alone. Grace received becomes grace shared. It softens hearts, restores compassion, and creates communities where people are not defined by their failures, but by the possibility of redemption and change.

Ultimately, grace helped me learn to live differently after any setbacks. I learned that recovery never follows a straight line. Some of us relapse, others feel deeply discouraged, and still others struggle with temptation. Without grace, those moments can spiral into hopelessness and self-destruction. But with grace, a setback can become an opportunity to recommit, learn, and move forward.

Somewhere in the past, I learned the difference between justice, mercy, and grace.

Justice means you get what you deserve.

Mercy means you don’t get what you deserve.

And grace means you get what you don’t deserve.

But grace is different—because grace will chase you down!

Today, I try my best to extend grace to those who need it. Perhaps they’re not aware of it. Perhaps they don’t even want it. But ultimately, the more grace I give away, the more I receive.

Thank you, God, for Your grace. Thank you for loving me when I hated myself. And please, Father, help me to never give up on anyone You place in my path. May I extend the amazing grace You’ve given me and share with them that power that changed my life!