Today I Broke Mom's Car

Welp, today I broke Mom's car. SHOOT. Here's what happened: I was backing out of the driveway, engulfed by 5000-foot walls of frozen snow on either side (maybe an exaggeration); I turned my car to direct myself out of the driveway, into the street. I turned slowly, yes, but my car's nose kindly scraped the ice wall to its left and tore off chunks from the bumper. Poor Lassie, the beloved Nissan Altima.

When incidents such as this occur in my life, my body would like to explode from the inside. At times, this explosion works its way to my mouth and words such as, "WHO BREAKS THEIR CAR IN THE DRIVEWAY?!" come out. It's interesting.

All of this happened before 11AM. POOP. Really, who does break their car in the driveway?

Mom was sitting in the passenger seat as I drove to the gas station five minutes down the road. Lassie's bumper and gas tank are unhappy with me now; the tank is extremely hungry, reading below E.

Opening the car door slowly, Mom places her credit card in my hands. Huh?

"Fill her up," she says.

Obviously, I don't deserve her money; especially not right now. "I just broke your car, why would you give me your money right now?" I say, bewildered and overwhelmed.

"It's a gift," she says simply.

Speechless and undeserving of her kindness after my flawed performance, I grab her card and drag myself out of the car and stare the pump in the face. This isn't fair, I think.

Next, we stop at Penzoil on the drive home; I've been neglecting to get an oil change for months. Guess who pays for my oil change? Ding ding ding! My mother! What a ridiculous deal, I think: I break her car, she pays for my gas and oil change. Hm. That is bizarre. And I certainly did not earn such kindness. Not even a little bit.

As I drove home, I was slapped in the face by God. He offered me a tidbit of insight into this unfortunate circumstance.

GRACE.

GRACE.

GRACE.

Breaking Lassie taught me grace. There were no guilt trips involved when I bashed Lassie against ice walls. And yes, I messed Lassie up--the car that wasn't even my own. But instead of condemnation, I received abundant grace. I was given the freedom to move forward, learning from my silly, human error and "beginning again" through forgiveness. Was I forgiven because my mistake was reasonable? NO. My mistake was DUMB. But I was forgiven anyway, and instantly. I wasn't meant to dwell in my stupidity.

Forgiven out of grace, unconditional love and offered freedom. Hm, doesn't that sound a bit like God, Jennie? I make countless dumb, human mistakes daily, some repeatedly. Grace seems unfair, like Mom plopping her credit card in my hands, saying, "It's okay, now let me love you as we move forward together." Because of Christ's kindness on Calvary, we are left speechless and beautifully overwhelmed--His grace isn't deserved and it's certainly not earned. That's what makes grace, well, grace.

I have learned to be extra cautious around icy walls of snow. And hopefully, I'll back out of the driveway better next time.

God has chosen me and my silly, error-filled self. Guess what else? He still loves me, just the same. What a God I serve!