Grace

My kids are really sweet kids. They can cuddle when I need it. They'll help around the house. They'll thank me for the things I do. They'll tell me they love me.

Then there's a day like today.

No hugs. No cuddles. No obedience. None of their junk picked up off the floor.

Only tantrums, an "I don't love you", thrown in with a "You're mean!"

(I promise I'm not mean.)

It's times like this when I want to pull my hair out. I mean, here I am, trying to cook dinner, and I have one kid screaming about not wanting to pick up their toys, another one screaming at me, and another one totally oblivious to anything I am saying. Oh, and during this time, one cut their finger, and screamed as if their life was over.

Where did I go wrong?

It's really easy to blame myself for their behavior. I try not to take it personally, even if they say they don't love me. (I didn't cry about it this time.) I'll admit that sometimes it's hard not to. I try and remind myself that they're kids, and like adults, they'll have bad days, too. Though I won't tolerate talking back, being disrespectful - of me, my husband, or their siblings - I need to show them some grace. How many times have I thrown fits when I didn't get my way? How many time LAST WEEK did I throw fits when I didn't get my way?

I remember when I was young, I had these red cowboy boots. I must have loved them because I do remember wearing them quite a bit. One night, I wore them to the grocery store with my dad. I was throwing a fit about something on the way in. I was crying and stomping my feet. Well, it happened to be wet out, and when we walked into the store, the floor was quite slippery. In this particular store, the cashiers were very near to the front door, and could see anyone when they walked in. In the midst of my temper tantrum, I stomped my feet just right and ended up slipping on my rear end on the floor. I was sure my face was as red as my beloved boots. Everyone was staring at me, cashiers and customers alike. I was afraid my dad would spank me, but nope. He started laughing. Laughing!

Looking back, I realized that in a way, he was showing me grace. I was so embarrassed, and I'm sure a part of him was, too. I think he knew that my tantrum was over at that point, and decided that my embarrassment was punishment enough.

My kids are all at the age where sometimes the consequences of their poor behavior is all they need to be reminded of their wrongdoings. Sometimes they don't see where they went wrong, but it's a lot easier to show them grace when they understand that they made a poor choice.

I'm so thankful that our heavenly Father extends that same grace to us. How many times have we made a choice, only to find ourselves facing the inevitable consequences? Sometimes we think we're so right, and that what we're doing is what God wants us to do. We fight to get our own way, even going so far as to throw a tantrum, and end up at a place we don't want to be.

I'm glad I can say that my love for my kids is bigger than any mistake they may make, and even more thankful that God's love for me is bigger than all of it.

Grace, grace, God's grace, 
Grace that is greater than all our sin.