He sits next to me, clipboard in lap, homework positioned so that he has to unclip it every couple of seconds to read the problem and change the page. There's a clasp on the clipboard, and he clicks, clicks, clicks it. The clicking feels like it's imploding in my brain.
This is it, my year of grace... and only two weeks in I've forgotten what grace and being gracious and giving grace means.
He sits and pretends to read, or I'm hoping maybe he is actually reading. The washer is loud and the treadmill is pounding out a rhythm and I feel like it is an internal pulse. And it's only Monday and I said I was going to be more positive, more forgiving, more gracious.
Gracious- pleasantly kind, benevolent. Compassionate and full of mercy. All these words that are so far away from where my heart is tonight.
And then I hear a prayer from the treadmill. "Mom, he sounds like one of those preachers that's been going for a very long time." Yes, my husband prays while he runs. And while he drives, and while he sits in bed watching TV. Prays out loud. I can only hope he also prays during ballgames, as he paces the sideline... but that is a tale for a different night.
And I open up my phone to my Kindle app and read out loud, and remembering my Good Morning Girls study, I open The Dig up. We find Luke in the Bible and read the intro out loud, the treadmill still humming in the background.
"Mom, I'm looking forward to studying Luke with you. I like spending time with you, when you aren't all crazy over a clipboard."
Grace, offered to me... in that small voice, as he leans over and kisses my cheek.
Thanking God for startling graces of being a Mommy and of forgiveness and His Spirit, of access to the Father and knowing that a quick heavenward prayer really does make all the difference. Of clothes to wash and a washing machine to throw them in... of my Kindle and God's Word. Blessings, each of them... of grace and mercy and compassion because I can sit and breathe and know that no matter how many times I get mad about clipboards and pretending to read and endless questions, His grace is still sufficient.
"Grace, offered to me... in that small voice, as he leans over and kisses my cheek." Yes! What a wonderful grace it is too! Beautiful post.
ReplyDeleteLove the verse you chose for Beth Moore's Scripture team! :-)
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