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It seemed that I had spent most of the weekend telling my granddaughter and grandson to leave the outside faucet turned off. Only five minutes had elapsed since I told them the last time. Lori asked me to call them for dinner. I went to the back door and called. I heard the water running. I got upset. I cornered the two of them. Blake, age three, and Kahlynn, age five. I lectured them. More truthfully, I berated them. I knew I was coming on to strong when Lori tried to intervene. She didn’t get much of a chance to intervene, Kahlynn burst into tears.
I knew I was wrong. I knew it at some point early in the conversation but continued anyway. Everyone was upset. I needed to apologize. During bath time I got Blake his pajamas. I told him I was sorry I got so mad at him for turning on the water. I didn’t use the word but… at all. “But, if you had….” He said it was ok. He at least acted like it hadn’t been a big deal.
I had a few moments with Kahlynn later. I told her I was sorry for getting so angry. I told her I was wrong. I again made no excuses for my behavior. I concluded my confession by asking her if she could forgive me.
She threw her arms around me and said,”Of course I can, you’re my grandpa and I love you.”
In Psalm 86:13 It says, ”O Lord, you are so good, so ready to forgive, so full of unfailing love for all who ask you for help.”
In that sweet moment I got an earthly glimpse of God in a five-year-old child. I got a glimpse of a God, grieved at my behavior, my action and sometimes inaction. A God who gave his son to die for me so that I could fail to live the way he would have me more often than not. A God I let down way too often.
But when I came to the end of myself, and asked for forgivingness, a God who threw his arms around me and says Of course I can, you’re my child and I love you.