Learning to Build the Perfect Bridge

“Mom, you’re scaring me.”

My little guy said this to me right after I slammed a pot lid onto the kitchen floor. It was not an accident. I am ashamed to admit I committed the pot lid assault after I finished screaming. I wasn’t screaming at my child, but rather, into the air. Because after a long day of persistent self-control, I was tired. I had stepped outside to enjoy the cool air(and hunt for toads for my little boys) after making dinner(no one said thank you to meatloaf) and baking healthy muffins for my breakfast for the next week. It was 8:30pm. I had walked back into the house feeling somewhat refreshed and ready for bed when I realized that half of the muffins I had just spent an hour baking—were gone. Our affectionate boxer dog, who regularly clings to our heels, was nowhere to be seen. There were large chunky crumbs under the cooling racks where the muffins used to be. I was furious.

“I’m scaring me too.”

I want to be a good mom, but I’m not. I can blame this on a lot of things, but mainly, I blame myself. I’m not strong enough to hold it together all the time. My kids love me anyway, but I don’t usually love myself. I have this big invisible bat that I walk around with and which I like to bonk myself over the head. After I have received enough sufficient lumps, I set it aside until the next time I’m bad. It’s called “The Bat of Shame”.

“I want to be good.”

A good friend of mine was fired at my place of employment last week. The event shook me to my core. My boss told me about it in simple yet vague terms. He said, “She broke a company policy.” I was devastated and instantly selfish. How would I manage without her beautiful smile? How would I cope without her sweet and sarcastic wit? I’m still reeling from it. I miss her face at the office. I feel like a hot air balloon that’s losing altitude. A pinhole in the material above me is tearing and the rocky ground below me beckons. Her termination affected everyone on her team. They are sad, frustrated and even angry. She made a series of mistakes and the rest of us are left to deal with the consequences. It’s not fair.

“I’m such a hypocrite.”

I write this blog about my journey to better health, but I frequently break my own rules. I feel really guilty about that. Last week my boss caught me eating Chick-Fil-A ice cream at my desk. He’s doing a 21 day cleanse. He didn’t say a word but I felt guilty anyway. And I finished eating it. I got caught and I continued in my “sin”. How many times have I encouraged him to give up sugar? To “just say no” to soda? To “be more like me”? I am an epic failure.

“What is grace?”

“What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound? By no means! How can we who died to sin still live in it?” – Romans 6:1-2
This morning on the way to work I listened to one of my favorite preachers, Chuck Swindoll(Look…I’m walking!). He was preaching about the Christian walk. His words comforted my heart as I thought about how I continue to strive toward personal holiness. He spoke about the freedom we have as followers of Jesus to not be enslaved to sin any longer. He used the very first verses I memorized in my journey to better health(Romans 6:12-14). Then good old Chuck said, “Since you are not under law but under grace, when you want to sin, you can present yourself to Christ and ask him to deliver you from the temptation.” I’m paraphrasing here, but in other words, he said, grace is the freedom not to sin.

“My loss of control is serious business.”

The truth is, it’s impossible to be perfect, AND my mistakes impact those around me. My “mistakes” are what prompted Jesus to leave heaven, wrap our injured flesh around him, and suffer tremendously. They are no joke. And while I take great comfort in being absolved from my sin, if I’m not actively striving to control my baser impulses, I’m spending his grace extravagantly.

I recently learned about Darrin Patrick, the lead pastor of The Journey Church. He was fired for reasons I will not name here. His termination has had a terrible impact on the people in his congregation. I would dare to say his actions have sent a shock wave through the evangelical and secular community. The secular community now has another “perfect” example for how Christianity is a great fraud. The Christian community has reason to doubt that grace actually works. Both perspectives grieve my heart because I stand on both sides of that fence.

“I deserve a spanking, Mommy.”

This morning I called to my young son to come and “get his goodbye kisses.” This is the wonderful ritual we have every day. I hug him and kiss his sweet little cherub cheeks. This morning he arrived in front of me—sans shirt—with a chocolate/caramel smudge on his chest. So I bent down and hugged him just as tight as I always do. Then I kissed his chocolate-smudged cheek. And I said, “I love you.” It occurred to me that all the worrying I’ve done recently over belly aches and high blood sugars(he is diabetic) are not because his medication is faulty, but rather because he has continued to ferret out any sweets in the house that he can find and consume them. I pointed out his transgression and he looked up at me with this sad face and said, “I deserve a spanking, Mommy.” And it wasn’t manipulative(although he can be manipulative). It was just a simple statement of acknowledgement. He knew what he had done was wrong and he knew he deserved punishment. (I did not spank him but he did get another lecture about diabetes and the consequences of recklessly eating sugar. I also told him he will not get dessert tonight).

“The simple reason is love.”

I didn’t speak to Tank(my boxer) for over a day. He’s a smart dog. He knew I was furious with him. He also knew eating the muffins was wrong or he wouldn’t have hidden from me in the first place. But this morning he waggled up to me with his ears laid back and the sorriest, most expressive “Please don’t hate me, Mom” look I have ever seen. I put my hand on his head and petted him. Then I rubbed his sides and said, “I forgive you because I love you.” And it occurred to me that God loves me the same way. He bears with my mistakes because he loves me so much. And I keep going back to him after I make them because I love him so much.

Love is messy, though God never intended it to be that way. When we love someone, they have the power to hurt us. But love also heals wounds. When we forgive someone who has hurt us, we build a bridge over an awful chasm they created. Building that bridge is always the right thing to do. Jesus is teaching me how to build that bridge because, after all, He is the master architect of bridges. My bridges are kind-of flimsy, but I’m learning. And truthfully, I am so glad his love is patient. Because sometimes those bridges crumble under the weight of me, and he is teaching me that the only way to build them is on the solid foundation of his love.

On April 27, 2016   /   The Journey   /   Leave a comment