hated it when I had to discipline them. It seemed they’d never remember to brush their teeth, chew with their mouth closed, or pick their clothes up off the floor.Often times, trying to stay on top of all those details took the fun right out of parenting.
A world where I could ignore the small indiscretions. If I overlooked a table manner or a bad word here and there, so be it. Let the parents sort it out. After all, they’re the ones responsible for how they turn out.
Don’t get me wrong, I care, but it’s not my burden. I’m free to pick and choose when to apply discipline and when to apply grace. And I relish in that freedom.
Being a parent helped me better understand the discipline I receive from a loving God. My own pain in nurturing my children helped me see the pain I caused God by my disobedience. It helped me understand how God nurtures me in order to protect me and help me grow.
But until I became a grandparent I struggled with understanding the grace of a loving God. How could He turn a seemingly blind eye to the ugliness of my sin?
How could He lavish me with all the wealth of His glory when I continually committed the same blunders over and over? How could He spoil me with the abundance of His kingdom? Or hold back on the discipline I really deserved.
I marvel at how God is constantly applying the grace and discipline I need in order to mold me and draw me closer to Him.
I want to continue to shower all my grandchildren in an abundance of grace. I promise their mom’s and dad’s I will discipline when danger is involved. But who is better than a grandparent to model grace? And in doing that I hope to point them to a God whose greatest desire is to give nothing but good gifts to His Children.