grace and mercy

This grace, it's a funny thing.

It wasn't grace because I did something good. It wasn't grace because I was the bigger person and humbled myself to make the connection.

I came to the computer, gave Hubby his information, and then got lost in other words of grace. (That music doesn't play fair, by the way. It's mesmerizing.)

And so I sat, checking the clock from time to time...

"If I went up now, we'd have just enough time..."

But I don't. I don't go up to reconnect, to patch things up, to make ammends, to cut her slack. I let her sit upstairs. And I let me sit downstairs. (Any other time I might say I was hiding. This time I'm in plain view.)

I should've gone up. Things might've worked out. They might not've. I figured that would be the grace, that she decline my invitation, say she's more in the mood to read now, and we leave it good.

But no.

She comes down early, announces she's done, and that she's going to bed, because I'm on the computer, despite the deal that she'd get the computer when she's done.

I reiterate the deal, saying I'm only here waiting for her, she can have it... We discuss, she decides to go to bed anyway.

So.

Here I am. A quiet night. Facebook/Pinterest/Blogger at my beck and call.

But I wasn't the bigger person. I didn't take the first step.

Is this grace anyway, the getting of something we don't deserve?

Or is this mercy, the lack of getting something we do?