I had to apologize to my granddaughter the other day.
She spent the evening with us last Friday, and we had breakfast together on Saturday, then we played games and puzzles for a while in the morning before her mom came to pick her up.
She is a sweet five-year-old, but as all children can be, she was a bit of a pill during her visit. She has a pretty smart mouth for a child so young, and I have warned her, just as my grandpa used to warn me, “Someday that smart mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble!”
Her little smart mouth had been grating on me most of the morning, but I was trying to be pleasant and not make a big deal about. Eventually, though, I ended up doing the worst possible thing.
Instead of being a mature responsible adult and dealing with her at the outset of her offense, and nipping it in the bud, and controlling my irritation, I did, as I have already confessed, the worst possible thing. I snapped at her - rudely - right before she left to go home, which meant she could stew over the sting of my rebuke without us having a chance to discuss it.
Bad grand parenting. Two thumbs down.
It bothered me all week. I could still see the hurt look in her eyes, and I could still feel the limp, hesitant goodbye hug that I got before she left to go home.
God has a good reason for giving us a conscience. We should feel bad when we do something that hurts someone else. Guilt is a powerful motivator towards proper behavior.
Well, guilty I was, and guilty I felt. There was really nothing to do but humble myself before a five-year-old and ask for forgiveness.
I had my chance the following weekend, when we took Miranda and her younger cousin Zeke to the model train display at the Garfield Park Conservatory. The kids really enjoyed watching the model trains, and we had a nice time roaming through the tropical forest planted in the large conservatory greenhouse.
I grabbed a few quiet moments with Miranda while we were at the conservatory and grandma was chasing little Zeke down the forest’s pathway.
I asked her if she remembered me getting upset with her the week before. Of course, she did. I sat her on my lap, and looked straight at her. “Miranda,” I said, “I am very sorry that I hurt your feelings. I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you right before you went home. I love you and I never want to hurt your feelings. Will you please forgive me?”
I could feel the strain between us being erased.
“I forgive you, grandpa.”
Now that I had cleared the air, we were free to talk about why I was upset, and that her behavior had been inappropriate, and I even warned her that I would be paying closer attention in the future to her attitude, and that she would be in trouble right away if she was being a smart-aleck at our house.
Miranda was fine with all that. She understood it was fair, and she understood that we expected her to behave with good manners.
And then I got a good hug. A good hard warm “I-love-you-grandpa” hug, the kind of hug that grandpas live for. I was so glad at that moment that I had not quenched the pangs of guilt that my God-given conscience had been prodding me with.
I wonder if all of we grandparents and parents should examine our hearts more closely, and search out offenses against our children for which we need to ask forgiveness. If we love our children enough to humble ourselves before them when we blow it, we not only obtain forgiveness, and right a wrong, but we teach them an object lesson about repentance and mercy.
How will our children ever learn to repent if we do not teach them the concept by demonstrating it with our own lives? How will they learn humility unless they see us behaving humbly? How will they learn forgiveness if we never give them an opportunity to forgive?
Children need boundaries. They need discipline. They need to learn responsibility. They need our guidance and our love. Perhaps most of all, they need our good example.
So I beg you all to love your children. Do all of the “tough love” parenting stuff that God calls you to do. But when you mess up, as I guarantee you will (and probably on a daily basis) do not be too proud to humble yourself before that child and seek forgiveness.
God has a lesson for both of you to learn from the experience.
