Tears stream down his face as he reaches his arms out to me. Mommyyyy! Huuuggg! Huuuggg!
My jaw, my arms, my heart are clenched. Anger pulsates through my body, and I refuse to oblige. He’s a kid, and I should know better, but in the moment I want him to bear the consequences of his disobedience. I want him to know things can’t be fixed so quickly when the relationship is broken. You get what you deserve, buddy. Grace and mercy aren’t available from me. And yet, he still reaches out. Still he pleads for the embrace.
We go down this path a million times a day, and it takes all those times for me to see beyond my anger, his disobedience, and what’s fair. For a heaven-sent second, everything slows down. His screaming quiets in my head, and I finally perceive what is good and profound through the loud fog of disciplining him. The generosity of his arms reaching out to me first, the relentless desire to reconnect — it’s the gospel, the hospitality of reconciliation.
I couldn’t see it before, but now it’s all I can see. When he resists the separation of timeout and fights to be close to me again, I learn that reconciliation means going further than middle ground. It means not expecting the other person to meet you where you’re at but taking the extra steps to meet them where they are. It means fighting against the internal struggle to choose comfortable and fair and putting aside your pride. It means being gracious and gentle and looking past differences and hurt. It means forgiving, correcting in love, and recognizing the humanity, the imago Dei in each other.
My son is far better at this than I am. He is quicker to say sorry, to let things go, and want me back. He teaches me that reconciliation is generous and requires hospitality. Bridges are built and relationships are mended and matured when a safe space is created, when we open our hearts and invite the other person in. Hospitality is the perfect picture for how we can become reconcilers.
Everyone comes to the table as equals, as human beings who are in need of connection and nourishment. We give and receive food, and our stories become channels through which our souls touch one another.
But someone has to be the first to do it, to take the initiative, and be persistent in the pursuit. Maybe it’s a good thing my son is so stubborn. No matter how many times I’ve held him at arm’s length and yelled at him to go back to timeout, he keeps trying. He pushes his way to wrap his arms around me. He wants to be restored, for us to be made whole.
I wish it were easier. I wish I didn’t have to battle it out with him so many times a day for me to keep learning. But each of those moments remind me of Jesus, and how far He reached to get to me. He crossed all boundaries and barriers — from heaven to earth, the holy into the unholy — and went beyond what was fair to reconcile me to Himself. He endured rejection and misunderstanding and death on my behalf. He did the hard and ultimate work of reconciliation so I never have to be separated from Him again.
But I forget it too often. I let anger rule the way I discipline when grace is what I’ve been given and grace is what I should give. Perhaps the timeouts are more for me than they are for him. They place me at the same level as my son and remind me that Jesus gave up everything to reconcile me to Himself, to bring me into His embrace, and therefore, I can do the same for my little one as well.
It hasn’t gotten easier when he disobeys and the disciplining must happen, but I’m quicker to recall what this is about in the first place. It’s about receiving and giving the hospitality I’ve experienced with God. So when he reaches out his arms and asks for a hug, I open my own out to him, and we sit there in the generosity of each other’s love, and we’re made right again.
I’m reading in Jeremiah right now, and have been stunned to discover that even within the chapters describing judgment on an entire nation, there are verses in which a wistful God leaves the door open for reconciliation, actually describing a future day in which the idolatrous nation will be restored to Him. Eugene Peterson (bless his heart) used the phrase “judgment in the service of salvation,” and your words remind me that discipline of our children is also in the service of their ultimate salvation. We discipline and then reconcile–a picture of God’s great welcome in the Gospel.
Blessings to you, Grace. Thanks for all you do.
Thank you for this, Michele. Yes, how many times in Scripture do we see God opening up the way for reconciliation to happen! What a good God we have!
Michele,
I am echoing Michele’s comment in that I am always amazed how God, over and over again, shows mercy to the nation of Israel. Countless times they promise to keep the covenant God has established with them, but before you blink an eye they are back at their old sinful ways…yet God continually forgives. We are called to forgive seventy times seven and seek reconciliation. I do want to add one asterisk** that if you are in a toxic, caustic, or abusive relationship, God does not call us to be doormats because we are His children as well. There’s a difference between repentance and reconciliation and continual verbal, emotional, or physical abuse. Those call for boundaries. God does not call us to endure that. Great post!
Blessings,
Bev xx
Oops…..Grace….not enough coffee yet lol.
Bev
YES YES YES about the abusive relationship. That is definitely out of the realm of what I’m talking about here, and I’m glad you make mention of that! Thank you!
You are so right it is a beautiful and amazing thing, the grace God shows us. Thank you for showing us the importance of showing that same grace to our children, husbands and friends.
Jas
His grace is so vast, isn’t it?
Grace,
God continually shows us grace & love. We mess up daily-yet He is wooing us back to Him with open arms. God’s ultimate goal is to have Israel reconciled with Him & the Gentiles also. Just like a parent disciplines their child God must discipline us to get our attention. Time & again the Israelites rebelled against God. They grumbled & followed false Gods. We do the same things. We stumble, grumble & make idols of people, & things. This world worships everything except God. It is time we got back to the one true God who is waiting patiently with wide open arms saying “come child I forgive you”. We must also be like God in being quick to say “I’m sorry” & accept other’s apologies.
Blessings 🙂
Yes!
Grace, thank you for the reminder that even when, especially when, our good favor is not deserved by another it is then we have the opportunity to demonstrate Jesus-love to another. I needed to hear that this morning. Bless you, sister. (And may God help all the mamas in the trenches disciplining kids!)
YES! May He help us all!
Grow up woman
You are supposed to be the adult
Dear Judith,
Thank you for reading today’s post. We always count it a blessing when a woman gives part of her day to spend time at this virtual table. Please know that (in)courage is a place that upholds love, grace, and respect for others. We desire to have open conversations about hard topics, which does not always mean we will agree, but it does mean we will listen and receive another sister’s perspective in a way that honors one another and this community. In this posture of unity, there is no place for accusations and rude language. Please feel the freedom to use the comments section here to ask questions, point out concerns, or share your own story. But do so with love and respect for one another.
With grace,
Becky Keife
(in)courage Community Manager
Hi Judith!
You’re right in saying that I am the adult. I am, and in this story, I’m sharing how even as adults, we may not do what’s best all the time and that we can learn about God through our kids. I hope you’re able to see God in the people around you as well and that His grace would overflow into your life.
So, I’m estranged from my father and i don’t ever see us being reconciled. He’s hurt me terribly and refuses to acknowledge that he’s done anything wrong, and blamed me or someone else for everything. I tried for 26years to be a good daughter but as soon as i tried to stand up for myself he rejected me and wants nothing to do with me. He’s completely cut me out.
Anyway. At this point i can’t do anything to reconcile. I feel guilty and worthless for not being able to reconcile on my end, but i don’t think it will do any good. I know the chances of him ever wanting to talking to me are slim to none. He literally wants nothing to do with me. But i feel like if i reach out to him, I’ll be allowing and encouraging his sin.
Sometimes i feel like by not saying wanting, I’m extending grace. But by talking to him I’m either condoning sin or it’ll just end up in a huge argument.
Hey Molly,
I’m sorry to hear about your relationship with your father. It sounds like it was a hurtful and possibly abusive relationship, and it sounds like you’ve done all you could on your end to try to reconcile. Some relationships can’t be redeemed or reconciled in this lifetime, and sometimes space and boundaries are what’s needed most when the relationship is toxic and abusive. Know that you are loved, that God has seen your efforts to reconcile, and that even if your father doesn’t come to meet you in your reconciliation, you have been reconciled to God, and He is your defense.
Opening our hearts after being hurt can be difficult at times. I am thankful for the peace and comfort God provides when relationships are broken and then, are mended.
Yes and amen.