Something like:

“The grace of God means something like: 
Here is your life. 
You might never have been, but you are because the party wouldn't have been complete without you. 
Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. 
Don't be afraid. I am with you. 
Nothing can ever separate us. It's for you I created the universe.
 I love you. 
There's only one catch. 
Like any other gift, the gift of grace can be yours only if you'll reach out and take it. 
Maybe being able to reach out and take it is a gift too."
-Frederick Buechner(thank you, my dear friend Abbie, for giving this to me)

As this new year settles upon me, I can hardly find the words to memorialize last year. All that comes to mind is something like:

This is what it is to be emptied. This feeling of euphoria over the tiniest drop of joy, because this empty cup can't create any joy and it finally sees. 

This year I have become the cup, instead of drinking it. I didn't know a cup could lose so much of its insides without falling apart. 

I have seen something of what I am, where I come from, and where I am going. 

Many things, much strength, much joy-they have all left me. I was strong once. I was merciful once. I was loving once. 

Now I have only a knowing, a seeing, a small understanding. A seed planted to grow, watered by sorrow's tears.
It is not me. 
I am only an image-bearer. I do not have the ability to create my own joy, love, grace, peace, or mercy. None. 
But somehow: God and I-we're made from the same stuff. Everything good is made of God, because He is all that there is. 

We are all channels of this Everything-Good-God. That is all, and that is everything. 

So when Jesus says, "Don't be afraid that you won't know what to say when they question you, because the Spirit of God will tell you what to say"...He means, "this is Our deal. Relax. I and my Father, We made good. We are good. The only thing you have to do is stand with Us. We will create good through you." 

Oh, it is not me. I could say it a million times, sing it, tramp it out in snow(if it would ever snow here). Really, truly glorious, those words. 
Now I live to marvel as beauty happens in and around me. His way of working out the Deal is the most perfect and poignant thing I have ever seen.
Music is deeper and sweeter and stronger now. The sun on the tree branches making golden-bronze is something I never deserved. Words from friends are arms around my heart. Hands on my shoulders. The horse wanting to take my finger with the apple makes me laugh. Volleyball, that silly delightful game that can be so exhilarating. Entering the world of story again(working on the second book now) when I wondered if I ever would.  
All this is from Him, and I cannot doubt that because where else would it come from? There is no other origin of good. 
I only pray I will be able to reach out and take more of it every day.
I pray, O Perfect Teacher, teach me perfection. 
It will take all my life and more so please do not stop.