Why did I react like that? I wailed to God after saying “You’re such a pain!” to my 10 year-old grandson. I just blew it again, and I so want to be this loving grandma I see in my head.
And God is so sweet. He showed me the good side of our relationship. Who else runs to you every time you’ve been apart, gives you a hug, and says, “I love you Grandma.”
I had to admit it, They are all sweet and loving, but nobody shows it or expresses it as much as Wade. So are You saying that the closeness brings out the worst as well as the best? I guess that makes sense–we risk most where we are the most comfortable. I felt relieved and went to sleep.
Visiting my children often makes me aware of the jagged pieces of my brokenness that still catch on the words or actions of others. I hate it! The wounding from what others say or do. The reactions that hurt others. I hate seeing it!
Or do I?
I’m beginning to see that brokenness is one of the most important concepts we can “get.” It keeps us from discouragement. How?
If you accept that you are broken, you aren’t expecting perfection from yourself. You are less embarrassed when you blow it, quicker to own it, and quicker to ask forgiveness. That is huge!
You aren’t as apt to hide, holding up your mask (your persona) and hoping no one sees around it. So you are more likely to be real, transparent, and relaxed. Relaxed people are easier to be around. They help others relax.
Relaxed people laugh more, enjoy more, are more efficient, have more great ideas, and generally are nicer to other people. They aren’t just trying to get things done; they are savoring the moments.
Relaxed people are usually more forgiving of others mistakes, because they aren’t cranked so tight that every minute has to come off according to their plan–human doings, I call them.
Relaxed people aren’t afraid they are missing something, or that something is going to go wrong, or that their kids will surely screw up if they aren’t there to stop it or bail them out.
I think it’s what Jesus’ disciples preached, “You are sinners, in need of grace.”
I never liked that message, it made me feel worthless when I needed to feel loved. But I see now that when you are trying to walk close to God, you can so easily become discouraged with your performance. And then it is a great comfort to know that you are just broken.
It’s the way it is. You are never going to be perfect. Not here, not now.
You have two natures. You can minimize damage by staying close to God and you will get more like Him, but you will still be a mistake maker–the weakness of humanity is a given. And when you see it in yourself, don’t despair or give in to self-loathing.
Get up, admit it, accept forgiveness, and keep on walking in God’s love. You can’t make a mistake so great that He wouldn’t love you.
You couldn’t even commit a sin that would cancel His love for you. (Sin and mistakes being different.)
But for heaven’s sake, don’t let your mistakes turn into sin–anything that comes between you and God. The definition of sin is living outside of love–saying “No thank-you” to God when He comes asking you to believe that He loves you, asking for a relationship.
He’s let you down? HE has?
Accepting brokenness helps that too. All of our brokenness muddles together to make such a porridge of blah and hurt, why would we ever expect life to be perfect? There is such a miasma arising from our actions, it’s like the world is enveloped in the smog of China. It’s amazing any of God’s goodness and blessings shine through!
We can help by choosing to own our hurt both in-coming and out-going.
So since my brokenness showed the morning I left, I texted Wade when I got home, “I’m sorry I said you were a pain this morning. I love you.”
And he replied, “Love you too!!!”
The miasma lifted. I felt God’s love shine through a ten-year-old’s forgiveness.