“For all thy blessings, known and unknown, remembered and forgotten, we give thee thanks” (from an old prayer quoted by Frederick Buechner).

Buechner calls it a crazy, holy grace. I like that. I also like it when he says that “faith is the assurance that the best and holiest dream is true after all.”

It changes how you look at faith when you realize that what you believe in is a “true myth,” as J.R.R. Tolkien explained Christianity to a then-unconverted C.S. Lewis. It’s not too good to be true; it’s too good not to be true.

The Gospel is the ultimate fairy tale come to life, the ultimate story of how the Hero has come to rescue us from the Wicked Stepmother and the Evil Queen and all the other dark and terrible forces in this world.

I forget that sometimes. I forget what I was saved from. I forget that I at one time desperately needed rescuing. I only see that my life doesn’t make sense and doesn’t always look like I want it to.

But when I look at life itself as grace, then I see the fact that I woke up at all this morning and drew breath as pretty amazing. This day, both the good and bad, from start to finish, has been a gift.

I have friends to remind me. They always make me smile and make me want to be more like Jesus. I try to bless and encourage them, but end up being far more on the receiving end of these things.

I’m still learning to live with open hands instead of clenched fists that cling to what’s mine, like my rights, my wants, my desires, my need for vindication, etc. Clenched fists can’t receive anything from anyone or from God. God only gives to those with open hands and open hearts and open minds.

I still remember the prayer a friend taught me: “Lord, I come to you with open hands. If all I get in this moment is You and the next breath, that will be enough.” I think that’s my prayer for Tuesday, May 15.