Today Small’s Sunday school teacher told me, “Small says her mommy teaches her a lot about grace.”
It’s one of those things that would probably make me cry if I wasn’t pumped through with mood-disorder medicine. But serious, I almost cried. I had done something right.
I feel like I am gracious in word more than deed. Sometimes Small will do something wrong and I will say, “you have made a bad choice. You have disobeyed Mommy. We are going to pray together, for forgiveness, and then we won’t talk about it again.”
One day, years ago, she had done something wrong. I sent her away because I couldn’t deal with her. I told her she was receiving justice. Her response, “I DON’T WANT JUSTICE! I DON’T WANT JUSTICE! I WANT GRACE.”
Here this child gets it better that I do. I’m the one seeking revenge on the woman who hasn’t invited her to her children’s birthday parties. I’m the one with so much grief and anger towards the MOPS woman who had her things at the table I was sitting at, knew I was not a part of that church, and moved them and herself away. I’m the one who can’t forgive the people who did not take to the letters I wrote to them to heart. I’m the one making the frickin’ chairs in to a huge deal.
When she is older, will she see me as a hypocrite? She might. Just because I teach things, though, doesn’t mean I can do the things. I have so much to learn and believe I will learn it. I hope I will learn it enough to truly pass it on, to my daughter, and also to you.