There’s a kidney-shaped blotch of glue residue on the left side of my brand new “Blanco” kitchen sink. The plumber forgot to glue the sink in place when he mounted it the first time. It was almost as if I knew something would happen when he came to finish the job the second time ’round.
Every time I play my black shiny “KAWAI” piano, given to me by my Father, I see the enamel chip on the right arm where the piano tuner dropped his tools, even after I asked him to keep his tool box on the floor.
There is a rather large set of scratches where someone I love, moved a chair across our cherry hardwood floor, that took some very dear friends of ours, along with our amateur help – one whole weekend to install. Did I mention we saved over seven years for that floor? Every time I vacuum and polish the floor I see the Grand Canyon.
Years ago, the mark on the sink would have sent my heart down the drain of despair – for weeks, possibly months! The piano chip would have inspired a very loud “Anger Sonata”, or worse yet – the sound of silence! And the grand canyon on my hardwood floor would have been hammered down on my friend’s floor, out of a need for retribution.
But lately, when I am reminded of the imperfections around me, my emotions don’t flinch about them, or the dear people who were unintentionally a part of them. I flinch about my own flaws, every last one of them. But only for a second, because God keeps his promises. He is changing me.
Gone are the days of my rage over a broken vase, that my sister and mother spent hours to repair. I’ve long since repented of that, and left behind my coat of shame. And the grace that I should have shown then, is the grace that is shown to me every day, and the grace I choose to live by. The grace of God. People make mistakes, I make mistakes.
There are two words to live by – forgiveness and grace.