I have a friend who has a son the same age as mine. We were talking about our shared difficulty in appreciating, at times, the grace these boys bring into our lives.

This problem is particularly acute, we both agreed, while standing at the doorway of their rooms and staring in horror at not just the mounds of clothes covering every available inch of carpet but those semi-empty Reese's Peanut Butter Cups they've chosen as their decorating motif and the crumbled up homework assignments that they swore they couldn't find anywhere but now had magically appeared, stuck by some unknown substance to the edge of their desk.

"Where is grace in that mess?" we both wondered out loud but silently I think we both knew the answer.

There is a wonderful meditation taught by the Buddhist Thich Nhat Hahn that asks us to hug someone we love and imagine that they are gone, that they are no more.

Such a simple exercise opens us up to an awareness of grace even in the midst of messy rooms.