Believe it or not, these exact words came to me in a quiet moment a few days ago:
“Become a Grace Vendor.”
I grabbed the nearest scrap of paper and wrote the words down because something told me they mattered. I couldn't stop thinking about them. The more I sat with those words, the more they made sense. They felt important. They ARE important.
A vendor is someone who has something to offer. They are stocked with something people need. They have customers.
What if that's how we viewed offering grace, Lori? What if we all became Grace Vendors?
I'll admit, I sometimes don't have as much in stock as I’d like. I believe I'm quick to offer grace to others, but lately that feels harder than it used to. We rush from one thing to the next, spend more time looking at screens than faces, and often assume the worst about people we don't even know. It's easy to feel like our supply of grace is running low.
Years ago, I read something in Brené Brown's Rising Strong that has stayed with me. She shared a question her therapist asked her: Do you believe people are doing the best they can?
I don't always believe that. But every time I remember that question, it softens something in me.
When someone cuts me off in traffic, maybe they're rushing to the hospital. Maybe they're distracted by heartbreaking news. Maybe they're exhausted after a sleepless night with a sick child. Or maybe they simply made a mistake.
I'll never know their story. Neither will you.
And maybe that's exactly why grace matters.
Being a Grace Vendor doesn't mean excusing hurtful behavior or pretending that wrong is right. It simply means choosing compassion and remembering that every person we meet is carrying a story we can't see. It means giving others second chances because we are grateful when someone does that for us.
I've noticed something interesting: the more freely I offer grace, the lighter I feel. It doesn't just benefit the other person. It changes me. My shoulders relax. My heart softens. The moment loses some of its weight.
I also realized something else:
If I'm going to be a Grace Vendor for everyone else, I should probably be one for myself, too.
That may be the hardest customer I'll ever serve.
How often do we replay our mistakes, criticize ourselves, or decide we should have known better? We offer grace to friends and strangers but deny it to the person in the mirror. Yet we are just as deserving as everyone else, and our stories matter. Self-compassion often feels in short supply when, in reality, the stockroom has a never-ending supply. Plus, it’s free!
Maybe today is the day to restock your inventory of grace, Lori. Imagine the difference it will make.