It was just me and him on our way to the church for summer camp drop-off. I can hardly believe he’s old enough. Hardly believe he’s got one more year after this then it’s middle school camp.
He had given me a little attitude that morning. I held my tongue as best I could. The thought of sending him off after an argument seemed dreadful.
As we rode we prayed together. For safety. For the other kids. For God to speak.
And I silently continued praying in my heart…”God, please speak to him. Please don’t let the week be about do this and don’t do that. Let it be about grace. Let it be about God’s love. Let Your salvation be what forms every thing that enters his tender heart.”
Yes, I want people to challenge him to get in the Word. Yes, I want him to learn how to pray. But he’s a first-born. He’s a rule follower. And without grace, we are all so quick to fall into routine. We are quick to take on the description of a Pharisee.
I’m learning with each child-shaped arrow that enters our home that only God can do the saving. Only He can do the changing. And He does it with love. Maybe love in the form of correction. But love. Holy love. Godly love.
And so, so much grace.
“See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are. The reason why the world does not know us is that it did not know him.” (1 John 3:1)
We are all loving watching the house being built!