A Picture of God

If they gave out an award for the worst mother in the universe, I’m pretty sure I would have received it this week.  I had been having an absolutely horrible day (counseling in the morning which brought up a bunch of things, an argument, that feeling of being totally overwhelmed, a migraine and just feeling completely DOWN) so when it came time to drive my five year old to Sparks (Girl Guides for 5 yr olds), I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.  I called a friend whose daughter is in the same Sparks unit and asked her to pick my daughter up and bring her home.  She said she would.  When she came to the door to get my daughter, my friend mentioned she would take some pictures.  I said, “Sure, okay, thanks,“ but was thinking, “Why?  It’s just a regular meeting…”

When my friend dropped her off again that evening, my daughter was wearing a crown and holding a certificate.  In that instant, it hit me.  I had missed her swearing in ceremony (where she states her Sparks promise and receives a badge and certificate to welcome her to the unit).  I burst into tears right there at the front door.  My friend hugged me, apologized for not mentioning it (she wasn’t sure if I had remembered and just didn’t want to go or had forgotten but would have been stressed out to be reminded at the last minute) and then said goodnight.  I closed the door and went and sat on the couch.  I began bawling and repeating, “I’m so sorry I missed it.  How could I have missed it?” over and over while my daughter hugged me and kept saying, “It’s okay, Mommy.  You can come next year.  It wasn’t a big thing.  I forgive you. Don’t cry.  It doesn’t matter.”  There I was, a total mess, beating myself up for being an utter and total failure as a mother (missing her very first ever ‘important’ day), and there was my five year old, mature beyond her years, consoling me, comforting me, instantly forgiving me.  I was the one that had completely let her down and she was trying to make ME feel better. 

My guilt plagued me all night.  I know the combination of the horrible day I’d had and the way I have been feeling lately made this event seem infinitely worse than, in hindsight, it really was.  Nevertheless, I cried myself to sleep and woke up in the morning with puffy eyes and a bleak outlook.  I took my daughter out for breakfast and drove her to school.  I apologized again for forgetting her important day.  And again, she forgave me.  She reassured me.  She radiated love.

As I thought about it that day, I began to give thanks.  For a daughter who forgives.  For a fresh start.  For the knowledge that, despite my numerous imperfections as a parent, God is in control.  He is molding my daughter.  He is protecting her heart.  More than that, He is using her to display His love and grace.  To me. 

I often think that, as a parent, I am representing God’s character to my children.  Whether we like it or not, they will, in many ways, view God the way they view us.  Are we forgiving?  Are we kind?  Are we harsh or unrelenting?  Do we discipline in love or anger?  Do we love to spend time with them?  Do we give them our undivided attention or are we always distracted with something ‘more important’?  I know I am always needing to work on these things.  We will obviously never be a perfect picture of God, which is why we need to pray and teach our children about grace and the need for a Savior and the importance of Scripture.  (We need to learn that ourselves as well!)

That day, however, I was miserably failing at representing God.  I was revealing weakness, frailty, humanity.  I allowed my struggle with depression to overtake me.  Instead, my daughter was the one displaying God’s character to me!  Weren’t her actions a perfect picture of God?  We let Him down and yet, in our devastation, in our agony, in our shame, there He is, consoling us, showing us grace and forgiveness, bestowing His perfect peace.  “Don’t cry, Mommy.” “Don’t cry, child of Mine.”  “You can come next year.” “There’s always tomorrow.”  “I forgive you.” “I FORGIVE YOU…”