Falling Down and a Shout Out to the Apostle Paul

"I do not understand what I do.  For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do."
-Romans 7:15

Hey, Paul,
Sho 'nuff, buddy, Ain't that the truth.

Remember yesterday's post?  Remember the link to G.'s post?  After you read this, I know what you'll be thinking...it's the same thing I'm thinking...

Was that some kind of ghostwriter yesterday?

Nope, that was me.  I had all good intentions.  I read the Adam/Larry letter to one of my boys and let the other one read it on his own.  One of them fell asleep too quickly, but I printed it out for him and left it for later.  I told myself to let them make their own mistakes and lay off a bit on the "helicoptering".  I talked to them about how I was the new kid in 4th grade and it stunk.  I reminded them to be kind.  I told them I loved them and was proud of them no matter what.  I went to bed satisfied that I was a fabulous mom. 

And then, morning came and....

I became Naggy McNagerson, again.  Really, I did.  Just as they were leaving, I noticed there were papers on the floor which I had to point out with my "Seriously, dude?" face. I watched the papers being shoved into a backpack...all crumpled up and messy. 

And my OCD kicked in and I said things like "Are you kidding? How about using the folders that we bought?  Your teacher is going to think you're completely disorganized and that you don't care about your work!"

And then I went on and on about first impressions and pride in your work and blah, blah, blah.  That little voice in the back of my head was saying, "STOP IT.  STOP TALKING.  STOP BEING HYPOCRITICAL.  STOP NOW." But I didn't. (You feelin' me, Paul?)

When they left, I saw my husband's face and I knew.  I knew what I already knew before I saw his face.  I knew that my tone was wrong.  I knew that I needed a new approach.   I was ready to tell him that he just didn't understand how many times I say the same thing over and over and what am I supposed to do?  He was sympathetic and he said I was a great mom and we had 3 amazing kids, but um, yea, the nagging...it's not working.  I actually didn't get all defensive with the but this and but that stuff, mainly because I knew that I was getting on my own last nerve, so there was really no defense. We talked about how to teach them and not tell them and we talked about how much to help and how much to let them fail on their own and how hard it would be to do that, but how important it would be to do that.

So, I tried not to cry and sat down to read a blog describing grace: Grace as an undeserved gift.  And I grabbed my Ipod and tied my shoes tight and went out to run.  I ran with tears and snot running down my face and I'm sure it was rather alarming for the high school kids waiting for the bus on my path.  I ran and prayed for grace and a chance to start again, even when I don't deserve it.

And God gave me grace.

 Based on the day He gave me, grace looked like this:

And based on the song that came on my Ipod, grace sounded like THIS song from Third Day.


And then I walked in the door all sweaty and full of grace and I sat at my computer and found a bit more of it from my husband because I opened an email he sent me and saw this:

He knew it would make me laugh.  And I didn't deserve it, but he gave grace anyway.

Let's try again today.  Blessings, people.