Broken

Two days ago, I wrecked a car for the first time in my life.  Sure, my little white car has suffered a few bumps and scrapes, and flat tires, but I've never actually broken it quite like I did this week. 


The bright side is that my son and I walked away from the accident unhurt, as did the passengers of the truck in front of me.  I remember trying so hard to stop, pushing my foot on the brake pedal even when I knew I wasn't going to avoid the crash.  And then it happens, and it's done.


My first thought wasn't "Thank you, God, we're okay."  It was "Crap. What have I done now?"  How quickly I allowed myself to feel discouraged and defeated by one mistake.  This is not what God wants for us.

The next morning when I was journaling, I took a good look at my attitudes and actions.  I certainly see how blessed my life is with healthy relationships, more than the basic necessities, entertainment, opportunity, and a lot of extra stuff.  And while I'm thankful for all that I have, I don't think I truly exhibit that gratefulness every day.


Do I show my family how much I appreciate them, or do I just go through the motions of housework and scheduling?  How do I show God that I am not someone that wastes resources and opportunties?  Instead of complaining about what has to be done every day, I should be deeply thankful that I have been given so much responsibility so that I am able to share with others. 


Yet I am as broken as my car.  It's difficult for me to see things clearly the way God does.  I repeat "Not right now.  Just a minute.  I'm busy" too often with the kids because my mind is on a million different things I have to do.  I don't kneel down enough to listen, laugh, and play without being distracted by the next item on my to-do- list.  I unnecessarily get overwhelmed by those very tasks, when I should feel excited to accomplish things that bless others-especially my family.  And if it's stealing precious minutes from them, it isn't important enough.


I am so grateful for God's grace.  I'm daily surprised by it.  It's most often displayed by my very own husband.  I tell him all the time that I don't deserve him, and I have no idea why he puts up with a mess like me.  But he does.  I love him for that.


My friend was reminding me yesterday that God is just like that.  We don't deserve His grace and forgiveness-his second, third, fourth, and thousandth chances.  But He gives them to us, because He loves us. 


He loves us.  Broken or not.