I am tired of saying sorry to my kids. Many times a day. Everyday lately.
But there have been two interesting patterns develop (and it’s terrible that there has been enough experience for there to be a pattern).
Face buried in a pillow, in tears, after an awful outburst, before I have said sorry, one child puts an arm around me. The child says, “I love you and forgive you for all that angriness, mum.” This proactive forgiveness has happened several times. Sometimes, well before I am ready to repent.
The other thing has been the response of the child who is more casual about sin. We’ve prayed for this child to see the seriousness of sin, so Jesus might be loved more. After I list my specific confessions, that child has started asking for an opportunity to say sorry for sin we didn’t pick up on during the day. Specific confession for real sin.
And a real Jesus who really died to deal with it. A real Jesus who is alive and mediating for those who trust in him. A real Jesus who covers his people with his own real perfection.
In weakness, I am thankful that God is teaching my kids something, even if it is not what I wish they were learning.
I am praying that having less of me means they savour more of Jesus.
I am thankful that salvation is never more obviously a work of God’s power and grace than when we feel we are a hindrance to it.