…the one lesson I can discern as a result of this experience is that I’m not done learning. I’ve realized that I will not out-grow the need for grace…
When I finally heard my son’s voice on the other end, I was shocked to hear how cheerful he sounded. I, on the other hand, was sobbing uncontrollably. What kind of mother fails to notice during the drive home that one of her children has been left behind? Not only that, but then ignores the incoming phone call from the police officer who’s found the missing child?
We had been out celebrating a birthday. In the chaos of cleaning up, and shuffling kids back and forth from the restroom to the car, we had somehow managed to pull out of the parking lot without our 8 year-old son. In our spacious, 15-passenger van, my husband and I both assumed he was seated in the rear with his older brother and sister, partially concealed by the rows of seats between us.
I had ignored a phone call from an unfamiliar number, assuming it was a sales call. I had reasoned that if it were something important, the caller would leave a voicemail. Then that same number called my husband’s cell. He didn’t recognize the number either, but he answered it. My breath caught in my throat when he suddenly whirled around with panic in his eyes.
In a moment, my husband was heading back to the restaurant, and I was on the phone with our son, blubbering my apologies over and over. I thought for certain this event would leave him traumatized, but there was no trace of fear or resentment in his voice. Actually, he sounded perfectly happy! He dismissed my repeated apologies saying, “It’s okay.” Then he told me how he had been allowed to sit in the cop car and even turn on the siren! You’d think he was recounting a class field trip, not how his own family had abandoned him!
My son was easily able to put the event behind him, but I continued to brood over it for some time afterwards. After piecing together how things had happened, we were able to recognize some miraculous tender mercies, for which I was certainly thankful. Yet, there was something which still troubled me. If God had been watching over the event, why had He allowed it to happen in the first place? Surely, any of the lessons we learned from this experience could have been obtained in much less traumatic ways, couldn’t they? I had even been making a special effort around this time to be more in tune to the Holy Spirit, and to act quickly on the promptings I received. Why hadn’t the Spirit warned me? I’d heard stories of other parents who responded to distinct impressions in the nick of time to save their children from harm. Had I missed a prompting? Why hadn’t the Spirit been more persistent? My skin crawled just thinking about all the terrible things which could have happened as a result of my mistake.
As I struggled with these questions, it became clear to me just how much I needed the grace that God so freely gives. I was reminded of that line from an old hymn, “O to grace how great a debtor, Daily I’m constrained to be!” (“Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing“). I pondered the truth that His grace is sufficient (The Book of Mormon, Ether 12:27). Gradually, a bittersweet gratitude began to enter my heart. I was pained to think of the damage I could have caused, relieved that God’s grace compensated for my weaknesses, and again troubled as I realized the intimate sacrifice this required of my Savior. It didn’t seem fair.
I knew that this time it was just an innocent mistake, and that I shouldn’t berate myself over it. Yet the incident had revealed an unsettling truth to me: My righteousness wasn’t enough. Any good choice I made could still potentially be overturned by the unrighteous actions of another, resulting in harm to those I loved. What would His grace look like in that situation? And then, what if I had done something horrible on purpose? Could His grace reach me then?
The answers haven’t come in the ways I’d hoped. I talked about the situation; I wrote about it — something that always seems to help me make sense out of things and find a peaceful resolution. But that peace still eluded me. I tried over and over to wrap things up, to define what I had learned about grace from this incident. When I was about to give up, I came across this quote from author Emily Belle Freeman:
“Receiving grace isn’t an event. It’s a story.”
Maybe I was trying to close the book while God was still telling me His story.
Perhaps the one lesson I can discern as a result of this experience is that I’m not done learning. I’ve realized that I will not out-grow the need for grace, but that the Lord wants to share its many facets with me. The real question is, am I willing to keep reading?
Questions to Ponder:
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When your story encounters a plot-twist, what will you do?
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When events leave you feeling unsettled, will you attempt to “skip to the end”? Or will you trust that these questions and loose ends are a necessary part of the whole story?
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How can you show your willingness to “keep reading” when nothing seems to make sense?
Read the first two parts in this series on grace here and here!
Photo Credit: Ben White on Unsplash
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