One thing I am well known for in my family is losing stuff (or just breaking it) out of the back end of the truck. I was catering a dinner with my dad when I was young. There was a four-foot food warmer in the back of my truck. It was some type of chicken, wrapped in bacon, in some kind of sauce. I was about half a block from the restaurant on the way to the event. I turned a corner and the entire warmer flipped over. The food was all over the warmer and the truck. It was a mess.
A couple years later, I went to pick up a new gas grill for my parents. No problem, right? Wrong! I put the grill in the truck, up against the cab, and strapped it in. As soon as I got on the interstate, I heard a crash.
I had put the grill in with the lid opening toward the back. The hinges of the grill were broken off and the lid went flying down the interstate. For several years my parents used the broken grill. For me it was a constant reminder of stupid mistakes.
Tuesday my mom and I went to Lowe's to pick up some barstools. I knew they weren't going to go in the truck quite like I wish they could. I strapped them into the bed all standing up in their boxes. We got on the highway and they all blew over. No problem, we stopped and rearranged. Two were lying down and two were standing up. Again they blew over. Again we stopped to rearrange. We laid all four down. One was stacked on top of the other three. It was strapped in every way possible.
We were driving down the highway again and suddenly a loud thump. A strap had broken. The top barstool was flying through the air and then somersaulting down the highway. Luckily it didn't hit anyone, but we knew the stool was shattered. We stopped and put it back in the truck. After we got home we found the only problem was a nick on one leg. We colored it in with a marker and you can't even tell now.
I'm reading What's So Amazing About Grace right now. And it is pretty good. It's challenging me regarding both granting forgiveness and asking for it. I thought about the book after the stool incident.
I don't like to apologize. I'm not sure why. I don't know if it is because I am afraid I won't be forgiven. I don't know if it is because I don't forgive others well so I don't believe anyone else could forgive me either. I don't know if I am afraid that apologizing admits failure. I don't like failure much. I don't like failure at all.
For the last few months I have been spending time thinking about the ideas of grace. I am amazed by the story of the prodigal. How could the father be so forgiving? How could he be so filled with compassion for his young son that he is willing to break all "rules" for the sake of love? How do I become a person that loves that way? How do I become a person willing to offer grace? How do I live in the grace that God has offered?
The young son wanted to work his way back into his father's world. The father would think nothing of it. He was a son, fully; no matter what he had done to disturb that. That is love beyond explanation. I can't fathom it; He loves me that much.
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