It doesn't even take thirty seconds. They move like lightning. They don't make a sound.
And they can single-handedly turn just about anything upside down.
Because they are explorers. Investigators. Adventurers.
And to top it off, they're really cute.
Toddlers.
This week, my smallest one set out to create a masterpiece of epic proportions.
I've recently opened a
shop online, creating prints and canvases with hand-lettered truths all over them. We've taken extra care to keep my materials and the pieces I'm working on far away from little hands. A whole room as a kid-free zone. Imagine it.
Now, scribble all over that picture in your head.
Because scribble is what he did. In black paint. All over a week of my work. Two complete paintings. One that was my sample and its twin that I had intended to ship out to a customer the next day.
It's one thing when something that belongs to me gets ruined. I don't mind so much. But when it belongs to someone else, I want to protect it like it's my child. Except, that on this particular day, I'm ashamed to say that I was more concerned about protecting the thing that belonged to someone else than I was about protecting the heart of my child.
I left the room for such a quick moment. Seconds. And I latched the door. At least, I thought I latched the door.
And when I returned, I was greeted by 21 pounds of the grandest, proudest grin. "Momma! Look!"
He was so proud of himself. So proud of his masterpieces. So proud of our collaboration.
In my shock, and quite uncharacteristically for my typical behavior, shouted, "No, Jackie, Nooooo!" in slow motion, as I fell to the floor sobbing. It was ironic, because the very words on the painting were from the verse that says, "Rejoice always," and "Give thanks in all circumstances," (I Thessalonians 5:16-18).
My sweet husband came running, and wrapped his arms around me as he urged me, "The only thing that's important in this moment is that you make sure our son knows that you still love him."
Our sweet, peaceful little boy, who had seen my reaction and broken into his own set of tears.
So, I held him. And stroked his back. And continued to cry.
Bawl, really.
But, as I pulled myself together (over the next hour...), still holding my little one, I let God into my worry about how much money we had lost in supplies, and how much time it would take to make a new painting, and whether or not I would be able to ship it out by my deadline. And He quieted my heart with His peace.
And then, I had to face the music. To face the friends who were visiting when it happened--who saw my terrible response. To face my sweet husband who is always so calm under pressure. To face the ruined painting and the blank canvas I was going to have to begin on. To face my kids, who were likely confused by what had just come out of their usually-pretty-level-headed momma. To face my own shame and embarrassment. To face the rest of the day.
I so longed for forgiveness. For a fresh start. And the most amazing part is that I was received with nothing less than grace and understanding. A glimmer of God's forgiveness in the people I love most dearly.
Not only that, but my gifted and thoughtful husband brought Jack into his room with one of the paintings, and held his hand as they hung his artwork above his bed. To encourage him in imitating his momma.
And so that every time I pick him up, I'm reminded to give thanks no matter what the circumstances are.
And then, that incredible man spent the next six hours back and forth at the other painting, slowly washing over Jack's paint scribbles with thin coats of new paint.
He painted until what had marred the painting was unrecognizable. And I was able to pick up where I left off, freshly aware of my desperation for God's mercy, of the need to have a thankful heart in everything, and of the beauty of forgiveness.
How about you?
- How has God shown you His amazing, clean-slate forgiveness?
- Is there something less-than-ideal that you can give thanks for?
- Where would you like a fresh start?
Would you share it in the comments?
"Where is the god who can compare with you— wiping the slate clean of guilt,Turning a blind eye, a deaf ear, to the past sins of your purged and precious
people?You don’t nurse your anger and don’t stay angry
long, for mercy is your specialty. That’s what you love
most.And compassion is on its way to us. You’ll stamp out our wrongdoing.You’ll sink our sins to the bottom of the ocean."
(Micah 7:18-19, The Message)