Grace, Gotcha, and Cheesy Corn
Grace. It's a word we hear a lot. Most of us use it from time to time. It comes up in every imaginable situation: from credit payments to work deadlines. Speeding tickets to deposit refunds. I bet even most of us mean the same thing when we use it. Giving grace means we're going to cut someone some slack. Show a little understanding. Give someone a little more time. Maybe a re-do.
It's true, all of those things. At least superficially. I think most of us even, if pushed, would include the caveat that grace has to be given freely and without resentment. I mean, if you cut someone slack but then hold it over their head can you really call that grace? Is it any degree of mercy worth mentioning?
Ok, so we're going to cut someone some slack and try not to hold a grudge about it. No guilt trips after the fact. This is pretty easy to do if the person has shown in some way that they "deserve" grace. They were late, but they called to let you know they had a flat tire. That's an easy one. The order was wrong, but the waiter apologized profusely and comped your dessert. Another easy one. I'm not interested in thinking about those cases, though. I'm interested in the tough ones. The ones who "don't deserve" grace. What about those instances when someone has given me no good reason to cut them any slack? What about the times when they reach for assistance to get out of a self-inflicted quagmire? What about those who call out for help from their knees when you know they've denied assistance to others before? What do I do then? Do I have the character within to act with compassion in the spaces where I find none? Do I have the ability to love beyond what someone "deserves"?
Am I strong enough to force feed someone love even when they seem to be rejecting it?
Enter Gotcha Day 2017...
Gotcha Day marks the anniversary of Ryan's adoption. Like many other families we choose to celebrate this day by pointing it out and making it special. It's a symbol of our family's connection to one another, a recognition to Ryan's biological family, and celebration of renewal. We started our day like any other school morning--busy, but mostly happy. Mom and dad went off to work and Ryan headed off to school. We were all excited for this evening. We were going to party it up! I usually do pick up duty and I was especially pumped to get Ryan after school today. See, I like to do a "red carpet" pick up on Gotcha Day. It's only once a year after all. Think colorful balloons, an ice cold sprite waiting in one cup holder and a king size kitkat in the other. Elementary rock star shit. After that, we had plans to head to dinner and top the evening with Paradise Park and maybe even a new toy or two. Do we indulge a little on Gotcha Day? Ya. Do I worry about that? No. It was really going to be an evening, until my phone rang...
Ryan was not having a great afternoon at school. Okay so that's putting it mildly. Ryan was having a very difficult time at school. Difficult enough the principal was calling. His "activities" needed my immediate attention. (Aside: This kid really picks the worst possible times to need me.) By ever imaginable sense of the word Ryan painted himself into a corner this afternoon. He disrupted his learning and the learning of others. He wasn't respectful of his property or the property of other people's at school. He drew time and resources away from other students. He drew my time and resources away from my job. He got himself in a pickle, and in a big way. In other words, he wasn't very "deserving" of grace.
I spoke with school a couple times and headed to pick him up. My heart sank. I was so sad and mad and disappointed and overwhelmed. I had all the feels. How did this happen? Do I even know what I'm doing? How will Kelly take this news? Who do I need to check on back at work since I had to leave so quickly? What about tonight? Do we do nothing? Do we still celebrate? Do I show anger?
Obviously I needed to send my son a message that I was not happy. Obviously he needed to make restitution to his teachers and classmates. But then what? I had a decision to make, and I made the decision to show grace. I calmly spoke to my son. Expressed my disappointment. Set my expectation. Moved on. I chose grace and mercy because I would hope for grace and mercy to be given to me. Giving my son a second chance when he doesn't "deserve" it means choosing unending optimism. It means hope for him and for me. It means moving forward with the best of intentions. It means not holding a bad day over my kid's head. Or mine.
So, while there was no red carpet pick up and no Paradise Park we did manage to salvage a lovely meal together at jack stack and we even go to pick up the new Power Rangers movie and find a few minutes to cuddle up on the couch and watch together. What we had in our heads? Not really, but somehow the love was just as strong--maybe even a little stronger.
It's true, all of those things. At least superficially. I think most of us even, if pushed, would include the caveat that grace has to be given freely and without resentment. I mean, if you cut someone slack but then hold it over their head can you really call that grace? Is it any degree of mercy worth mentioning?
Ok, so we're going to cut someone some slack and try not to hold a grudge about it. No guilt trips after the fact. This is pretty easy to do if the person has shown in some way that they "deserve" grace. They were late, but they called to let you know they had a flat tire. That's an easy one. The order was wrong, but the waiter apologized profusely and comped your dessert. Another easy one. I'm not interested in thinking about those cases, though. I'm interested in the tough ones. The ones who "don't deserve" grace. What about those instances when someone has given me no good reason to cut them any slack? What about the times when they reach for assistance to get out of a self-inflicted quagmire? What about those who call out for help from their knees when you know they've denied assistance to others before? What do I do then? Do I have the character within to act with compassion in the spaces where I find none? Do I have the ability to love beyond what someone "deserves"?
Am I strong enough to force feed someone love even when they seem to be rejecting it?
Enter Gotcha Day 2017...
Gotcha Day marks the anniversary of Ryan's adoption. Like many other families we choose to celebrate this day by pointing it out and making it special. It's a symbol of our family's connection to one another, a recognition to Ryan's biological family, and celebration of renewal. We started our day like any other school morning--busy, but mostly happy. Mom and dad went off to work and Ryan headed off to school. We were all excited for this evening. We were going to party it up! I usually do pick up duty and I was especially pumped to get Ryan after school today. See, I like to do a "red carpet" pick up on Gotcha Day. It's only once a year after all. Think colorful balloons, an ice cold sprite waiting in one cup holder and a king size kitkat in the other. Elementary rock star shit. After that, we had plans to head to dinner and top the evening with Paradise Park and maybe even a new toy or two. Do we indulge a little on Gotcha Day? Ya. Do I worry about that? No. It was really going to be an evening, until my phone rang...
Ryan was not having a great afternoon at school. Okay so that's putting it mildly. Ryan was having a very difficult time at school. Difficult enough the principal was calling. His "activities" needed my immediate attention. (Aside: This kid really picks the worst possible times to need me.) By ever imaginable sense of the word Ryan painted himself into a corner this afternoon. He disrupted his learning and the learning of others. He wasn't respectful of his property or the property of other people's at school. He drew time and resources away from other students. He drew my time and resources away from my job. He got himself in a pickle, and in a big way. In other words, he wasn't very "deserving" of grace.
I spoke with school a couple times and headed to pick him up. My heart sank. I was so sad and mad and disappointed and overwhelmed. I had all the feels. How did this happen? Do I even know what I'm doing? How will Kelly take this news? Who do I need to check on back at work since I had to leave so quickly? What about tonight? Do we do nothing? Do we still celebrate? Do I show anger?
Obviously I needed to send my son a message that I was not happy. Obviously he needed to make restitution to his teachers and classmates. But then what? I had a decision to make, and I made the decision to show grace. I calmly spoke to my son. Expressed my disappointment. Set my expectation. Moved on. I chose grace and mercy because I would hope for grace and mercy to be given to me. Giving my son a second chance when he doesn't "deserve" it means choosing unending optimism. It means hope for him and for me. It means moving forward with the best of intentions. It means not holding a bad day over my kid's head. Or mine.
So, while there was no red carpet pick up and no Paradise Park we did manage to salvage a lovely meal together at jack stack and we even go to pick up the new Power Rangers movie and find a few minutes to cuddle up on the couch and watch together. What we had in our heads? Not really, but somehow the love was just as strong--maybe even a little stronger.
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