It was a typical weekday night...Mark was gone chasing the bad guys in North Minneapolis and I was left to man the bad guys in our house. I was attempting to make dinner while the kids were getting settled, and Sam was in the shower. I heard the water stop, and soon after, his dripping little body was walking through the living room with just a towel around his waist.
Belle decided to do something to annoy him on his way to his room to get dressed, and he got angry at her and hit her on the shoulder. And of course, she cried that loud, 'you just really hurt my feelings' cry, and came running to me.
Immediately I was angry. How many times had I told those boys to be gentle with their sister? How many times had I shared with them how they are not allowed to hit or touch their sisters in any way out of anger, and that God wants them to be their protector's, and to honor them, and put their needs above their own? And this little pang of fear started creeping into my heart that Sam was just not getting that.
So I yelled at Sam to get dressed and ordered him to my room....my mind already preparing condemning words towards him....
As he sat in the bedroom waiting for me, I went into the bathroom to pick up the extra clothes he forgot to pick up...and I looked up at the window, and saw this...
My heart dropped immediately. I was instantly convicted of my own anger...and compassion filled my heart for Sam. I laughed to myself as I thought about how my heart is just like Sam's...
exclaiming my love for God one moment...and the next moment giving in to my sinful desires.
Those precious, wobbly, dripping words scribbled on the window was exactly how I loved God...messy.
And that reminded me of some words Paul Miller wrote in his book, A Praying Life.
He says, "The criteria for coming to Jesus is weariness. Come overwhelmed with life. Come with your wandering mind. Come messy."
So I walked into my bedroom and there sat Sam on the floor. Instead of sharing my list of "How could you's!?" like I originally wanted to...I reached out for him to hug me and we sat and had a talk about how hard it is to be kind when others are mean to us. And how much we need Jesus...how we can't obey all the time...and that is exactly why Jesus had to come.
We were able to pray and thank Jesus for dying on the cross and taking the punishment we deserved for our anger we displayed just moments before. And we thanked Him for living the perfect life we never could. And that we can ask Him for help when we are struggling and know that He will always forgive us when we come to Him.
It made me thankful too, that my wobbly attempts at loving God are not what I should be putting my faith in...
that it's Jesus' perfect love that rescued me,
and will continue rescuing me every time I fail.
There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. ~Romans 8:1
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