About
Everything is Grace
Once upon a time, I would have agreed: “Everything is Grace” -meaning it’s all on me, all up to me, and ultimately, all about me.
I saw the spiritual life as a space for striving — to make myself do all the right things, to make myself into the right kind of person, to make myself worthy of God’s approval, and ultimately, to earn salvation.
For years, I did all the “right” things.
Catholic school. Theology degree. Church work. I said all the right prayers, did all the right deeds, checked all the right boxes. And one day I sat in church wondering, “Is the Gospel really good news?”
I believed God was good, in theory. But deep down, I lived with fear and exhaustion. I saw Him as the divine taskmaster, always evaluating my performance. I kept waiting for the day I’d finally get my act together enough to deserve His love.
I didn’t know then that in that place of burden and brokenness, God was calling me — out of myself and into a new space.
“You need to stop trying so hard and let God love you.” These words from a priest in Confession changed everything. To be honest, at the time, I rolled my eyes. I thought, surely he didn’t understand, wasn’t paying attention to my list of sins, didn’t hear how I obviously wasn’t trying hard enough.
God’s sense of humor (and His providence) had the next priest I confessed to say basically the same thing. And the next, and the next, and the next. At that point, I had to face the idea, that just perhaps God was trying to tell me something. I didn’t really understand what those words meant, “Let God love you.” But these words, at which I first rolled my eyes, ultimately rolled away the stone under which joy was buried.
The resurrection was not instantaneous. It has been a long season—years—of change and growth. I am a work in progress. I am also a witness to God’s goodness. What I once questioned has become the message I want to proclaim from the mountaintops. (Or at least on Substack…😊)
I want to witness not as someone who has it all together, but rather as someone who has learned I don’t need to. Not as someone who did everything right, but as someone who found God even when things went wrong. Not as someone who is holy and whole, but as someone who encountered God most powerfully in heartache and healing. Grace meets us not when we finally have it all together, but precisely in the places we feel most fragmented and incomplete.
Grace Abruzzo
Helping Catholics grow from anxious striving to joyful trust in God’s goodness, even in life’s mess.
What I Write About
- I found that prayer is not so much effort and activity as making a space for God. A space for gift boxes not check boxes.
- A prayerful life is filled hoping and coping; Joy is not just for heaven; there’s comfort and
- I have a heart for healing in all its forms. The places of greatest wounding can become the places for greatest encounter and joy.
- In memories God sometimes offers a reverse treasure hunt, inviting me to uncover now a gift I hadn’t recognized at the time.
- An early and constant need is unlearning false ideas of God, and in recognizing and rejecting The Opposition Voice. (Sometimes the enemy’s biggest deceptions are dressed in religious language).
- Noticing and contemplating connections and pairings can open up paradoxical juxtapositions that reveal and highlight deeper insights.
- A concrete and practical unpacking of religious principles. We know are true but they often seem too abstract; we need the “how-to” in holy ideals.
- I try to offer insight with humor, including (or even especially) about myself.
Beyond the Writing, These days, I’m:
Let’s Walk Together
I’d love to journey with you. Because everything, truly, is grace.