The Purpose of Grace

I have trouble accepting that all people are different. The way we speak, learn, prioritize, communicate, feel love... No two people are alike. The things that hurt us, the things that move us, what makes us feel inspired- it's different for each of us. This is why grace is so important, and I feel myself forgetting it. I'm impatient; I become so frustrated because I've failed to communicate well. In my inability to communicate in love, I cause pain for those I love. I feel anger in myself. I can't change them. I must change my desire for them to be like me. I need to learn the art of graceful speaking. I'm too busy trying to make them just like me, that I miss out on the beauty of who they are, who you've made them to be, Love. I am so caught up on the need to be understood, that I misunderstand them. And the misunderstandings lead to conflict, and the conflict leads to bitterness, and that bitterness becomes a divide I never intended. The variety you've surrounded me with is astounding. The diversity in all my world is a sign of how awesome you are. You were first a creator, I can't forget that. And your creative spirit is all around me, but I reject it. I'm sorry that I've let this contradiction surface. I like to believe I love your creation in its entirety. I like to believe that I love the different people I encounter daily. But can I call myself a lover of those I try so desperately to change? I am selfish. Because my purpose has not been to see them change so they can be closer to you. My intentions- as subconscious as they might be- has been to change them so that I can be more comfortable. Why do I ache so badly for comfort? I reflect on your 40 days in the wilderness, I recall that you had no place to lay your head, I envision your prayer in the garden, and I cry at the memory of you nailed to a cross... I am reminded that you never sought comfortable. You sought change at the expense of being inconvenienced. You sought the redemption of others by being offered up in brokenness. Who am I that I should expect something easy and simple? Who am I to demand that others be as I wish them to be? I am nothing. I am dirt, and I only exist because you've given grace for me to do so. I want to be compassionate, but it only comes by dying to my will. Only in wanting nothing can I have everything I truly need. I want to appreciate them, but that only comes in loving who they already are. Please forgive me of my foolish attempt to make us all the same.