This blog is named The Good Logger, borrowed from Wendell Berry's "A Forest Conversation" from Our Only World.
“A bad logger goes to the woods thinking of what he can take out. A good logger goes to the woods thinking of what he should leave" (47).
A good logger leaves more than he takes, which is the definition of grace. Returning more than he uses, whether it's actions, items, or attitudes.
Grace doesn't come naturally to me. It makes much more sense to return what is given. Evil for evil, anger for anger, kindness for kindness. Frequently the practice of grace starts fine but spirals into a crossing of boundaries, leaving me exhausted, frustrated, and done. Mostly this happens with my kids since I'm around them all the time, their constant demands ping-ponging on my forehead all day. One whack with one ping pong ball won't do much damage, but the avalanche leaves me buried and bruised. I stop with the grace-talk and return with biting remarks or outright explosions of exasperation.
I think what I'm getting at is the idea of scarcity. Everything in our world has a limit: water, energy, gas, time, money. Conserve it wisely or it'll be gone before you know it. But grace is not like that. Grace has a magical power of replication, but my brain treats it like all other commodities. If one person gets grace, there is less for me. This is of course not true!
A good logger knows that grace multiplies. A good logger tries and probably fails, but tries again. Because only the Best Logger does it right all the time. The Best Logger being Jesus.