My crowning parenting moment did not happen when I dropped the futon on all ten of my toes. Sometimes I’m pretty certain they learn all their worst behavior from me.
“Oh grace, grace, God’s grace…”
I sat there on their beds after the catastrophe of an evening was through, after all the “I’ve had enough” and “I’m done with this day!” and “Get into bed!” and after I exploded like a powder keg when the pain in my toes lit a fuse.
It’s just grace, you know? Sometimes, most of the time – no, all the time, even though we don’t always remember – it’s this overwhelming grace that makes us so much more than we are and saves us from all we otherwise would have become, that covers a multitude of sins and births new mercies into every heart and every morning.
It’s grace that binds us to each other. The love of Christ, the gift of the Father – and how keenly I feel tonight that it IS sheer GIFT.
We repaired the breaches in the wall, a word and an apology and a tear at a time, these kids and I.
I’m so thankful. Thankful for grace, thankful for forgiveness. Thankful for soft hearts. Thankful that “our flesh and our hearts may fail, but God is the strength of our hearts and our portion forever.” Thankful that while I cannot offer my kids what I wish I could give them – perfection, a perfect mama – I can walk with them into something much more – grace.