Every time I burn grilled cheese, which is nearly every time, I smile inside. Thinking of the family I grew up in, I know I come by it naturally, honestly, genetically.
There was one time, I remember, when my mom was in my kitchen, and I was making grilled cheese. I saw her quietly take the bread and scrape off the black over the sink. Sure, she's had lots of practice...both her own grilled cheese and mine as well.
But quietly, acceptingly, restoringly, she scraped off my error. Covered my wrong. Washed those blackened bits of bread right down the drain.
Relationships aren't always so grace-filled. One lapse in judgement and you're labeled for life as the "one who ate the last cookie, dented the car, broke the heirloom china, hogged the remote, always got her way."
How do I make sure I'm covering over the wrongs of the ones in my home? How do I gently take their blackened pieces and quietly wash them down the drain? Gone forever?
Only by remembering, always, breathing the Truth that I'm no different. Only by the Christ-Child's sacrifice on the tree am I cleared of my wrongs.
I read a version of Isaiah 9 that calls Jesus the Mighty Hero. I can't begin to count how many times He saves me from my folly.
"Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail."
Looking at those I love, knowing we're all on a journey in need of help, love, acceptance, encouragement, I want to choose God's way over my own.
And when those conversations come, situations cross my path, where not all is lovely and perfectly toasted, I have to remember Who cleaned up all my crumbs and instead offers me a great big, delicious feast.
Oh, may my ponderings be upon His mercies, His goodness, the beauty He offers me in exchange for my ashes, and not upon the faults and sins in myself and those around me!
"They [God's compassions] are new every morning; great is your faithfulness."
text:Lamentations 3.22,23NIV
