Coming Home to Grace

Ronald Rolheiser writes, “What God asks is simply that we come home, that we share our lives with him, that we let him help us in those ways in which we are powerless to help ourselves.” It’s a gentle invitation—not to perfection, but to presence.

Coming home to God doesn’t require a dramatic conversion or a flawless spiritual resume. It might look like a mother whispering a prayer in the pediatrician’s waiting room, unsure how to soothe her child’s pain. Or a college student walking back from a party, feeling the ache of loneliness beneath the noise, and daring to say, “God, are You here?”

It’s the quiet surrender of a man who’s lost his job and finally admits, “I can’t fix this alone.” It’s the woman who lights a candle at dusk, not because she knows what to pray, but because she longs to be seen.

We come home when we stop pretending we’re fine. When we let God into the mess—the grief, the anxiety, the fractured relationships. And in that shared space, grace begins to move. Not always with answers, but with presence. Not always with solutions, but with strength.

God doesn’t ask us to be strong. He asks us to be His.