Grace isn't about having a second chance.
Grace is about having so many chances that you could use them all and still not come up empty.
Grace is when you stop keeping score and realize that God never was.
-Shauna Niequist
Reading this recently was a reminder of what I believe about Jesus, how God treats me, and how I want to treat others.
I am honored to be my people's person, and yet I sometimes fail to treat them with honor.
I catch myself expecting the five year old to act more like fifty, because she is the oldest and because it would be easier. At times I only see the mess the three year old boy doesn't even see, because he was just trying to be playful when he created it (so much shredded toilet paper this week). I often feel interrupted after the baby wakes up from a brief nap because I am only a quarter of the way through the list I had hoped to check off while she slept. And I am less than gracious when anticipating Joshua's absence for work travel, despite his ability to be home with us for three meals on most days.
When I am grateful, I am much more graceful. It is gratitude for the God who loves imperfect people with perfect love which enables me to muster grace.
I recall how six years ago I bled early in my pregnancy and the two pregnancies prior, and how grateful I am that our oldest arrived. I consider how our son's journey through foster care made it seem unlikely that he would be making messes on my floor and again I am grateful. For our youngest who is currently in foster care and may not be with us forever, I am reminded to be grateful for each day that she is. For the husband who chose me as a 19 year old, and continues to choose me, I am grateful. They have all been gifts of grace in my life.
One night this week there was a particular lack of grace and gratitude being exchanged between siblings. I was attempting to make dinner and halfheartedly calling out from the kitchen, "Kind words!", "Gentle hands!". The yelling about not wanting to share an item was so loud that I couldn't be heard. Then something of mine shattered and there was silence.
They hadn't been able to hear me until something broke and now they were listening. It was an opportunity to teach grace by living it. I left the food on the stove, sat down and looked into a tiny face with sad eyes. I spoke softly about how I had liked the object and how I was sad that the accident had happened, but that they were so much more valuable to me than any object. They were grateful for the grace extended and could then hear me as I talked about how they had been treating the object they were fighting over as more valuable than each other. The arguing stopped and the sharing started because receiving grace inspires us to give it.
They hadn't been able to hear me until something broke and now they were listening. It was an opportunity to teach grace by living it. I left the food on the stove, sat down and looked into a tiny face with sad eyes. I spoke softly about how I had liked the object and how I was sad that the accident had happened, but that they were so much more valuable to me than any object. They were grateful for the grace extended and could then hear me as I talked about how they had been treating the object they were fighting over as more valuable than each other. The arguing stopped and the sharing started because receiving grace inspires us to give it.
Gratitude reminds me to choose grace. For the "I love you Mommy" at the end of the day when I haven't acted with the grace that I had hoped to give them, a reminder to extend the same grace to everyone in my life even if I don't think their behavior deserved it. Because that is the definition of grace- it is unmerited and yet we are given it unending.
The pictures were taken after our first snowstorm of 2019 this past Sunday, one out our front door and the other the back. Both views stopped me in my tracks with gratitude. Our little tree fighting for root space in the city sidewalk turned into a glistening chandelier, and tulips given without a reason against a backdrop of snow.
