social dyslexia and the 'alphabet of grace'

Yesterday, I heard a friend use the term "social dyslexia." Finally, a phrase to capture (alas, excuse!) the long litany of my faux pas (is that the correct plural?). Yes, I've lived a life (so far) of transposed social letters, reversed meanings, unread or misread context clues, misspelled (and mis-spilled) emotions, (parenthetical posturing), and improper "subject-verb agreement" in the grammar of social mores and conventional appetites. My social dyslexia has plagued by relationships at home and work and play, a "boobonic" dis-ease cured only by time and repentance and, eventually, insouciant acceptance. If my social dyslexia has lowered my comprehension scores in the reading of life's chronicles, I've surrendered to it, serenely succumbing to the alphabet of grace (to borrow a grand phrase from Frederick Buechner), no matter the sequence of those belles lettres.