Grace. What a powerful word. I love having grace extended toward me. To be the recipient of grace. Now to be the giver of grace....not so much. That doesn't always feel good. I don't always feel like it...my heart isn't in it, so why should I fake it?
This morning my darling girls decided it would be fun to wake up at 3 am. My girls. Not my boy, who at 18 months, I would have freely forgiven. Perhaps he was feeling pain from teething, maybe a bad dream, or maybe even a diaper that needed changing. No, my girls just thought it would be fun to have a party at 3 am.
Unfortunately, their father and I didn't get the memo about the party and we weren't very happy about it. I went over twice and could still hear them whispering and talking. They finally quieted down and then about half an hour later all three emerge to use the bathroom. Together. Yes, they start young. What is that about? To say my husband was irritated would be an understatement. He went over to the bathroom, opened the door, and gave the girls quite a fright! They were just getting ready to go back to their room, so opening the door and finding their irate father, wasn't something they were expecting. They go back to their room and proceed to keep talking!!!!! Nate had just laid back down and he jumped up and went over and let them have the "what for". He came back to bed and I just said that perhaps this is just preparing me for a nursing baby. Needless to say, it was almost 4:30 before the house was quiet and we fell back to sleep.
Waking up this morning, I just felt mad. I felt mad reading my daily Bible reading. I felt irritated as I read my blogs on google reader. I felt upset as I drank my morning coffee. I felt a headache coming on as the kids emerged from their rooms. And the crazy thing is, they came out already dressed, beds made, and pleasant. But this mama wasn't feeling very pleasant. I wasn't feeling very graceful. I just wanted to be angry for a while. I felt justified in my anger. I wanted to sit in it for a while. Why? I mean, seriously, who wants to stay there?
To make myself feel better I called my mom and told her what happened, wanting her pity, and then I confessed that I just wanted to stay mad about it. She laughed. It is really kind of funny when you think about it. I wanted to wallow in my self pity and self righteous attitude, because I felt I deserved to be angry.
All I can say, is THANK YOU JESUS He doesn't do that to me. I can be so selfish and immature, even in my thirties. Sometimes I feel it can get harder....this dying to yourself. The only example our children have of God's grace is the grace extended to them from the adults in their lives. That is what they will associate God's grace with. What a responsibility. What a choice we have to make. Every day. Sometimes every moment. And I fail. A lot. But I am so thankful for Grace. And so, God has been laying on my heart the double standard I hold in mine. I want God's grace for when I screw up, but when my children make mistakes, whether childish innocence or intentional, I want them to know how it offended me for the rest of the day. I want to hang it over their heads.
Our transgressions are as far as the east is from the west. They are in the bottom of the ocean. Please remove the plank from my eye...help me to be Your hands and feet. To show Your grace. Grace that makes us white as snow.