Strike Sparks

Sometimes things get ugly. These babes of mine, they fight.

And no I'm not just talking about my 5, 6, 7, and 8 year olds, but my grown women.

Sometimes my friends here laugh at me and say how can I be a mama and a grandma (yes, it's true—baby Dominion is in full effect!) to so many and have not yet birthed a baby from my own womb. Then they tell me I have to have my own baby. And then I tell them....I've got my hands pretty full already!

The mystery startles me too.

I'm a mother.

And a mom has to be a mediator, above all. I envy the wisdom of mothers who can do this.

I am still tongue-tied and leaning.

The accusations come. The stories from both sides. The pointing of fingers. I struggle with how to relate to the sin and the hurt and the wounds they inflict on each other.

I want to bribe them with candy.

But that doesn't really work on adults.

I go through all my possible options in my mind---discipline, correction. But none if it feels quite right.

How to change a behavior that flows black and thick from the heart.

If the heart can't change, the behavior can't change.

These women of mine grown blue and maroon from the pummel of fists, taken and ravaged with the disease of some man's mistake, children pulling at their ankles. It is hard.
I get where they come from.

And where they are.

And where they are going.

Sometimes the sacred is here too.

My daughter of mine, she is hurting. I can see it in her eyes. The longing to be declared innocent.

A heavy-winged thing. The hurt and the hope.

Will I come to her rescue?

Is there any justice in this world of ours?

And I hear Jesus' words ring:

“Where are your accusers? Didn't even one of them condemn you? Neither do I. Go and sin no more.”

The release of this grace, like a prison door sprung open.

Undeserved favor.

“Kindness also, working by the law of love, has often changed the most unworthy, and therein proved that it is not a factor of evil.” -Charles Spurgeon-

It is HIS kindness which leads us into repentance.

Always the father/mother welcoming the son/daughter home.

At the end of it all, I hold her.

And she says, “God bless you.”

And I know that grace, that love, is the only answer to this problem of our hearts.

The goodness of God slips stealing and steady into her heart and I know she will come home.

Is there somewhere where you can spare a little grace today?

"The only counter force against sin is grace; so my text tells us, and we may learn the same truth from a hundred texts besides." -Charles Spurgeon