Road Grace

This morning, I tromped down North Market Street, twice yelling at my kids. This afternoon, I plodded up Spears, incredibly thankful to still have them.

You ever have one of those days when your attitude just doesn't match your circumstances? This morning as I pushed my double-stroller down the sidewalk, I wondered how I could be so irritable when the sun was shining, the breeze was blowing, and the birds were singing.

And yet, when my son stepped into the road before I told him to cross, I lashed out with many more decibels than was warranted and scared my son. I felt kind of rotten and asked him to forgive me. About two blocks later, I did basically the same thing. But this time, it was worse.

In their crossing, my kids unwittingly veered out into the traffic lane. I yelled, caught Selah by the arm, and half-dragged, half-lifted her onto the sidewalk. I should have been walking on the outside of my children.

That's when the silent accusations starting darting through my mind: "Gosh. You're a lousy parent. What if your kids had been hit? You say that kids are supposed to a blessing. You've been treating them like a curse. What would the other parents at church say if they saw you right now?" Of course, this would happen right after we'd talked about Love being patient and kind in Sunday School.

So, again, I apologized to my kids and explained that they needed to stay in the stroller till we got to the playground. Once they were settled, I started walking again.

Now normally, this is the part where I would indulge in feeling like a worm for several hours, confess my crimes, nod at the cross, and still feel like a general disappointment to God and family.

But today, I actually skipped the wormy part and told God I'd screwed up. I wasn't just being unkind to the kids in my heart and words, I was also idolizing the world's approval. Yelling at my kids and their not heeding me 100% perfectly damaged my image. I needed more than a simple attitude adjustment. I needed forgiveness.

God gave it. I had this sense that he had basically said, "Yeah, I know. I've already paid for that. I really do forgive you."

Then... lightness. Of heart. Of mind. Of step.

Our time at the playground went fine. I kept the kids in the stroller on the way back just so we could be a little safer.

Then, at the corner of North Market and Frasier, we had a close call.

I saw the traffic signal give the go-ahead for pedestrians to cross. I saw the tan car wanting to make a right hand turn. But the driver in the tan car did not see me.

And as I crossed in front of her right front wheel, she started to turn. I yelled again -- this time out of alarm. The car bumped Selah's side of the stroller. Elijah fell out in the street.

Thankfully, the lady braked quickly, and I backed up onto the sidewalk again. The lady was obviously sorry and had a handicapped tag hanging from her mirror. She'd assumed from my position that I wasn't intending to cross her path. A couple ladies nearby asked if I wanted to call 911 or the police, but Elijah didn't even need a band-aid.

The emotion of what happened didn't actually catch up with me until a block later. And yes, I cried. I soon wheeled away from the main road and headed for the quieter street that runs through my neighborhood. I didn't feel up to chatting with the neighbors just then, but I felt grateful for God's mercy.

I know God still would have been good if we all had gotten run over, but it's much more pleasant to spend the afternoon in my living room with tea instead of in the ER with an IV.

I learned a lot about road grace.

P.S. I will post the second part of "Sarah's Coat" next week.

Simple Stuff

I know it's only February 8th, but this year I've been surprised at how much joy I've already taken in a few simple pleasures.

A few weeks ago, Jason took me to Petco to see the puppies. One of my birthday wishes had been to "pet fuzzy things," and a couple local agencies regularly bring their adoptable dogs to Petco on Saturday afternoons. I think the last puppy I'd pet till that point was Scout - a friend's German Shepherd who is now four years old. Needless to say (why is that even a saying?), it was time for a puppy fix.

I went into the store reminding myself that Jason and I are NOT ready for a dog. With two children still in diapers, I need nothing else in my life that poops. But I very nearly fell in love with a brown mutt that looked something like a stocky Italian greyhound. The dog wasn't attractive, but it had a sweet disposition. And I congratulated myself for seeing the beauty in the beast. Hours after our visit, I was still smiling.

Another one of my simple pleasures took the form of a sci-fi novel. Yes, a Sci-fi novel. I was between Dorothy Sayers' Murder Mystery books and wanted to read something. I remembered a recommendation from an acquaintance and pulled C.S. Lewis' "Out of the Silent Planet" from the shelf.

I don't think I've read a sci-fi book since high school. Maybe middle school. I rolled my eyes a couple times reading about space travel, but soon Lewis' images and dialogue got the better of me. That man had so many majestic thoughts. His story exercised some imagination muscles I haven't flexed in a while. Isn't it funny how reading fiction can sometimes enlarge your view of "The Greatest Story Ever Told"? His book reminded me that God is the absolute Ruler and Creator of all the stars, planets, peoples, and cosmos in general.

Then yesterday, I couldn't stand it any longer and started digging in the garden. Yes, it is only Feb. 8th. Yes, I know that anything I plant will probably get killed once Chattanooga remembers it's still winter. But I figured all this did not disqualify me from taking the decorative rocks out of my yard in preparation for tilling. Nor did it forbid me from transplanting my daffodils and irises from the back yard to the front where all humanity could enjoy them. Neither have bloomed yet, and the daffodils are kind of floppy now... hopefully I didn't kill them.

Nevertheless, it felt good to work the soil. One of my neighbors even joined me for the fun. At first, I felt annoyed when he dug outside "my lines." But then I remembered that this whole gardening thing was supposed to be for God's glory -- not mine. He's the one who makes it grow anyhow, and I don't think He'd be too honored if I mowed my neighbors down in the planting process. Anyway, the kids and I had fun in the dirt -- and they took baths later to prove it.

Finally with all the change in weather, I've caught a smallish cold, and my hot tea tasted all the more amazing today.

Thus, I shall leave you with two great quotes. God gets to go first: "Instruct those who are rich in this present world not to be conceited or to fix their hope on the uncertainty of riches but on God, who richly supplies us with ALL THINGS TO ENJOY." 1 Timothy 6:17

And from my sci-fi novel: "[Ransom's] old terrors of meeting some monster or idol had quite left him: he felt nervous as he remembered feeling on the morning of an examination when he was an undergraduate. More than anything in the world he would have liked a cup of good tea." ~ C.S. Lewis, Out of the Silent Planet, p. 118

It's only February 8th. But I think it's going to be a good year.