Jacquelyn Nicole Davis

“I remember when I was five playing tag with Cara and her brother. I accidentally got pushed into the side of her trampoline, and I bit the inside of my mouth. Blood gushed everywhere. Cara’s mom held me until my parents came back. I didn’t need stitches, but it was nasty. I roll my tongue over a small bump on the side of my mouth. Yep. It’s still there. Real friendships have battle scars.”
― Jacquelyn Nicole Davis, Trace The Grace: A Memoir

“I remember when I was growing up and there would be sick people in the church. I was always so sensitive to them sitting in the pews alone, and I would not pass by without saying hello. But even at those tender ages of 5 through 14, I felt like they carried the plague, and after seeing them I would turn around praying really hard to never experience sickness like that, ever. I’d pray that I wouldn’t make God angry enough to curse me like that with really awful things, but I didn’t think about grace. I did not understand that it does not work that way, that God’s grace is so much bigger than our sin because of Jesus—but I do get it now. We go through what we do so that we can fulfill God’s glory in our lives.”
― Jacquelyn Nicole Davis, Trace The Grace: A Memoir

“There is nothing as delicate, as stunning, and as vulnerable as the heart.”
― Jacquelyn Nicole Davis, Trace The Grace: A Memoir

“May 4, 2006
Blog Entry #1
There once was a girl who took everything for granted.
 She had friends.
She had good friends—friends who saw her geeky exterior but loved her anyway, friends who had known her since before she knew herself. But she wanted more.
She had people who loved her. She had a huge house on a hill. A bedroom as big as a studio apartment. But she still wasn't satisfied. She moved to the ends of the earth … Long Island, New York.
She thought it would be exciting. And for a little while it was. But she soon found that life in the “city” wasn’t everything she hoped for. Before long, all the shops and landmarks were meaningless, and she realized that all the parties in the world meant nothing—especially if she didn't have the people to share them with. She decided to make a distress call. She lined up coconuts.
H–E–L–P
She spent one and a half years on her “deserted island.” Then, a moving truck finally answered her call.
But little did she know that she was returning to her home as a different person. She was returning with lessons of contentment that would stick with her forever. Lessons of gratitude, integrity, faith, and love. Exposure to things and ideas she would have never seen in Snellville, Georgia.
How she could be and how her life could be…
She drove back down only to find that she wasn't the only one who had changed.”
― Jacquelyn Nicole Davis, Trace The Grace: A Memoir