On Grace and Love
They watch me falter and fail. They watch me love though I lack and have need of the same. Four times a week three little boys watch me. My three-year-old grandson Gavin watches longer, some nights and weekends. But four days weekly he joins the other two, his friends Oliver and Ronnie whose ages of two and four respectively he is sandwiched between.
They are instruments of God, teaching me far more some days than I teach them.
Gavin raced into my office the other day with the other two behind him. “Nanny! Come see what we made!” I followed feigning excitement that comes easier other days—days that don’t include ledger recording and household budget makeovers. A mountain of toys had found their way out of the toy box into the living room. Every toy that must return to appropriate bins and be stacked skillfully in order to fit the jam-packed toy box had been emptied.
I followed a lame display of adoration of their project with a firm reminder. “Boys, you’re not supposed to drag all of the toys out! Remember? When you’re finished playing one thing, pick those toys up before dragging out more!” Petty? Perhaps. But it’s this Nanny’s attempt at some semblance of order.
Gavin’s shoulders slumped. “We just wanted to make you happy.”
Ouch. I’m snapped back to reality. I apologized. Or at least I half-heartedly attempted. Days like that I spend much of their nap time reflecting on what I could’ve, should’ve done. They’ll squabble all morning and I just about break. Oliver pulls a nap strike threatening to demolish my quiet time and sanity. I sigh heavily, grumble, stomp my feet in tantrums much like theirs.
Oliver’s mom and I discuss via texts how Oliver hears, knows, repeats. He is wise beyond his two years. “We have to watch what we say,” she says—No!—reminds. But it’s what I do that they’re watching that really tugs at me. I know that they need firmness at times. They need consistency. God has equipped me with these abilities. But sometimes I wonder if they’ll wake from their nap with disappointed faces, pout for mom, and never want to return to Nanny’s again.
The thing is, we struggle with grace. If we grasped more of the depth of the grace of God our lives would reflect freedom, we would extend more of the same to others. We barely scratch the surface. When the year turned 2013 I sat out on a quest. I prayed for a greater revelation of God’s grace and love. We can only give what we have, what we’ve received.
And this is what I’ve learned through three little boys. When Oliver has stubbornly fought sleep and I’m worn down and weary, he still wakes with a huge smile and almost always, “I WUB you, Nanny!” On the days the boys squabble seemingly non-stop and I have admonished, disciplined, scolded, then repeated cycle—they don’t wake with a desire to leave Nanny’s with haste. They wake eager to see me and look to me expectantly for their needs.
And on days when they’re playing quietly and all is well between them, Nanny still sometimes sighs heavily, furrows brow, and scowls. It’s no fault of theirs. It’s not meant to be directed at them but it sometimes is. Yet it’s those days when I’m exhausted and weary and cranky that they astound me. Oliver grabs my leg with full force and squeezes tight. “I WUB you, Nanny.” Ronnie hears Oliver and repeats with his own love. Gavin begs to curl up in my arms.
They extend grace that they can’t possibly comprehend. They don’t know that the grace of God is far more powerful than the Magic Eraser Nanny uses to wash away Crayon marks left on the table’s service. But they freely extend it. And I’m reminded of their genuine love for me.
What a beautiful picture of the amazing grace and unending love of God!
The Lord showed me in the wee morning hours the faces of these three boys. I saw a picture of His undeserved grace, freely given yet costly paid.
When we mess up God doesn’t respond with long face, folded arms, and a desire to flee from us. He runs to us with open arms just like those three little boys run to me. He extends His grace; He shows love. All we have to do is receive.
When we see His grace, grasp His grace, know His grace, we know He loves us. We know His love. And His love constrains us. It compels us to love in return, just as my little grandson and his little friends compel me to love them more by the grace and love they so freely show.
I’m in awe of God’s mercy. But His grace astounds me. His mercy has kept me from the wrath I so deserve. But His grace has surpassed it, bestowing gifts I will never deserve. It’s the beautiful expression of His love.
Grace.
May this be the year of our return to grace. Freely receive and we, then, can freely give. Then will our love be known. And then, others will know we are His.
By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another. ~ John 13:35
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