Where I Found Grace in Myself
by Stacie Wyatt
There was a time I searched for grace in all the external places—
in the approval of others, in the beauty of a sunrise,
in the whisper of prayer or the stillness after yoga.
But I’ve learned, slowly and sacredly,
that the deepest grace is the one I extend inward.
I found grace in the moments I couldn’t meet my own expectations—
when my body needed rest instead of rigor,
when healing looked like stillness, not progress,
and when my heart longed for softness, not striving.
I found grace when I forgave myself
for believing I had to do it all, be it all, hold it all.
When I whispered “it’s okay” into the parts of me still trembling.
Grace met me in the quiet sighs of surrender,
in the mornings I didn’t want to rise but did,
in the days I didn’t, and let that be enough too.
It wasn’t dramatic. It was ordinary.
Like folding laundry while crying.
Or smiling at my reflection after months of not looking.
Or making a cup of tea and choosing to stay.
This is where grace lives for me now—
not as something to earn or chase,
but as a presence I return to, again and again.
The tender arms of my own becoming.
The soft exhale that says:
You are still good. Even now. Especially now.
As pain has become a more persistent companion,
I’ve had to shift the way I experience joy.
What used to be miles of long, soul-filling hikes
has become short walks with a cane—each step its own kind of prayer.
Where I once taught over 30 yoga classes a week,
my energy now flows into writing, quiet reflection,
and creating offerings that ripple outward in different ways.
The pace has slowed, but the depth has deepened.
Grace has asked me to stay in relationship with myself,
even as the landscape changes.
And maybe that’s the truest kind of strength—
not in holding onto what once was,
but in gently embracing what is.
A Gentle Invitation
If you’re in a season of shifting, of slowing,
of learning to meet yourself where you are—
I invite you to pause and ask:
Where have I found grace in myself lately?
Let that question be a doorway.
To reflection. To self-compassion.
To honoring the quiet ways you’re still showing up.
And if today that simply means breathing and being—
that is more than enough.
