Moments in Grace

“You read me my Bible, Mommy?”   He asks this same question every single day sometimes several times a day, this three year old voice chirps like a baby bird hungering for more.   He carries his Bible everywhere and during morning family devotions he sits with his Bible storybook trying to follow along with the others. Each time I ask a question about any passage in the Bible that we have just read he says, “I know, I know!   Jesus die on the cross?” Yes, I say, Jesus did die on the cross for our sins. But this day as we are sitting in the afternoon sunlight, he asks for the story in his Bible storybook with the picture of the cave with the stone that is rolled away. First, we have to read the story of the cross, I say. So we do.   When we get to the picture of the cross, he knows this one by heart. “Jesus die on cross!   Jesus die on cross!   For us! See, see!” “Yes,” I say with a smile, “he did, but that is not the en...

So the kid down the street, the teenager we bring to church, he punches my son in the face….again. And this kid with no mother, and hardly a father, this kid who gets suspended from school at the drop of a hat because he….well, he punches everyone in the face who gets in his way, and how do you keep reaching the lost and the broken when they beat you up over and over again? This dilemma is not new. This is the struggle of every person who has ever set out to love lost and broken people in Jesus' name. Sometimes you get your nose bloodied. Sometimes you get wounded, because hurting people will hurt you .   It is not a matter of maybe.   It is only a matter of when and how.   It doesn’t mean that it is not hard.   Oh, yes it will be hard to love unlovely people.   It will be painful.   It will cost you something.   It will be ugly at times.   You will wonder if it is worth it.   You will want to quit. You will ...

Our neighbors are moving.   And yesterday we said goodbye to the first friends we had made when we moved here.   They are not moving far but it will be harder to have play dates and for the kids to see each other.   We are sad to see them go.   We said goodbye with some tears.   Later in the day, the doorbell rings.   It is the neighbor girl bringing us a card.   Joy.   Just joy.   I think of all the neighborhood kids we have brought to church.   I think of all the kids we have prayed for and had over for Backyard Bible Clubs and the endless hours of our yard filled to overflowing with kids by the dozen.   And I am undone by grace. Because this was not my plan. Oh, I have spent years trying to protect my kids from the “world”, to keep them “safe”, to make sure they were doing the “right” things.   I endlessly questioned if they should even play with kids in the neighborhood and what about the b...