When I was a little girl we used to sing this song in children's church called "God's Still Working on Me."
There is a line that says "It took him just a week to make the moon and the stars, the sun and the Earth and Jupiter and Mars. Loving and patient he must be, because God's still working on me."
Only I heard, "on vacation he must be, because God's still working on me." I must have, as a seven-year-old, thought I was such a piece of work that I even God needed a break from me. Well guess what? God is still working on me.
I pray for my son everyday. I prayed for him before he was born. I prayed for him before he was conceived. I pray constantly that he will be protected. That he will be safe. And I pray that he will one day have his own relationship with Jesus.
That last prayer has led me back to praying for myself. That I, as his mother, would be a good example. You see, I have a little problem with my mouth.
As my mother used to say, it overloads my rear end. I am quick tempered, quick to anger, quick to judgement and slow to love people I don't know (and a few I do). I am also quick to let words fly out. Words I don't mean and words I shouldn't use. Some of them of the four-lettered nature.
I have been telling him the Easter story. He may only be a few months old, but it is never too early to teach him of God's grace, mercy and forgiveness.
Those are three things I have lacked in my own life. And I am praying that God will clean out that rubble in my spirit, give me compassion and forgiveness.
I have also been praying that Jesus would take control over the words I speak. This is hard for me. Very hard for me. Extremely hard for me.
I have been hurtful. I have used my words as a weapon. Can I teach my son of God's ultimate grace and in the same breath make a snarky comment to my husband? That's a conflicting message, don't you think?
So as we dress for Easter this morning and I thank God for sending His son to die for my sins, I will also be asking him to help me be an example of His grace in my own home.