I refuse to recognize a deity who determines the characteristics of eternity based just upon the limited, intentionally-confusing, impossibly brief moments that constitute life. If the conditions of any eternal existence are to be defined solely by the arithmetic sum of my actions over 80-ish years of physical reality, I will spit in the face of this arbitrary, rules-lawyering god and gladly suffer in defiance of its petty criteria.
The god I believe in isn’t short of cash, mister, nor limited by contextual definitions of right and wrong, measured in volume and on a scale infinitesimally small compared to the breadth and depth of creation.
This life, this brief window of consciousness, is either an injection of specific experience into an unimaginably-vast existence that soars beyond mere consciousness, or else is just it, and nothing else, with no measuring or weighing necessary nor done.
Either way, no god I believe in would build His kingdom of such a limited, linear set.
And, thus, grace.