Every. Single. Morning. Same routine, same child running behind. Distracted. Doing his own thing instead of what he’s been instructed to do. Instead of what is required every day.
“I told you ten minutes ago to put your shoes on. Why are they still not on your feet?”
And it begins. The heart racing panic that sets in my chest because we are beginning to run late.
A word I’ve learned to despise. A word that evokes an anxiety attack. A word that can so easily make me feel unimportant. So much power in that one little word.
“You’re going to miss the bus.” My voice starts to rise. If he misses the bus, I will have to drive him to school and get gas because the vehicle doesn’t have enough to get everyone to school. I have to take all the kids to school because it wouldn’t be fair to only take just the one. I’m still in my pajamas. Now I have to get dressed. This is not how I planned to start my day. This lateness becomes all about me. Sigh…
“You need to get your shoes on.” I’m on the brink of yelling with frustration. Yelling. Yep, I do that well.
“I am!” he yells back. “I’m looking for my socks.”
“You should have had those socks on twenty minutes ago. Why are you just now looking for them?”
And back and forth it goes, from socks and shoes, to a coat and backpack. It doesn’t matter if we have him set them out the night before, he still manages to barely scoot out the door and meet the bus each day.
“Have a good day.” I know it sounds hollow as I watch him race through the field and under the electric fence to get on the yellow bus in the nick of time. Each time I pray that he does indeed have a good day and that tomorrow we can start the day off better.
Grace tickles my heart. Oh, the grace that has been lavished upon me, when daily I struggle with the same tired issues. The same procrastination to do what I need to do. The correction that comes gently, without scolding or yelling.
And I get it.
The grace I need Christ to pour out through me and into my boy. Even when we run late. Even when I have to force my tired body into clothing so I can drive him to school. Even when I want to yell, “Why are we doing this again today?! WHY?!”
Because I may be the only grace he sees today in a world where hurt seems to rule.
I will wait for his return today and ask for forgiveness with a humbled heart. And we will try again to get it right tomorrow. And even the next day and the next. Until.
Until the day where he doesn’t need me to tell him it’s time to get up or to put his shoes on. Because it’s coming fast.
Where do you find extending grace to be a challenge? Is it hard to show grace to your kids when you’re feeling frustrated? Share in the comments.
But he gives more grace. Therefore it says, “God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble.” James 4:6 ESV