My children have an imperfect mother.
I know. Shocker.
I show my children depravity at it’s finest.
But where there is sin, there is grace. Forgiveness. Another day.
I distinctly remember the first time I ever apologized to one of my children. It was the hardest moment I could recall. So humbling. Since then, it’s become far easier. I have had lots of practice.
It’s a balance, this motherhood thing. We make mistakes, we learn from then, we move on, striving to do better. And then we make more mistakes. Scripture talks of the faith of a little child. The forgiveness of a little child is also a remarkable thing. Whereas I want to stay offended, and struggle to forgive and move on, a child forgives and immediately acts as if they really aren’t offended. As if I didn’t really just mess up once again, use a harsh tone, hurry them along when they were already doing their best, or interrupt their story to remind them of chores. They just forgive, move on, and love me still.
Today, I’m thankful for grace. God’s grace, grace from my husband, grace from my children, grace from my friends. Lately, I feel more in need of it than ever. I struggle, I sin, I fall flat on my face, and yet, God has offered me free grace. Over and over again, I’m in need of it.
I was called “super mom” again the other day. All I could think is, “Wow, have they got the wrong lady.” I try, I fail, I try again, and fail again. Motherhood is the most humbling experience of my life. My frailty is fully displayed to these six little people – and when I think I might be conquering just one small portion in life, one of my children says or does something that I taught them that reminds me, once again, that it’s so much worse than I ever thought.
Grace. Forgiveness. Thankful.