I stood in front of the bathroom mirror one morning, moaning and groaning over the fine lines and wrinkles that had suddenly decided to make their appearance. On a day when I was already feeling impatient and discouraged, this did not help to improve my mood. It seemed like one day my skin was smooth and supple and the next day I woke up to a road map running across my face. As I was pondering what miracle cream I should purchase the next time I was at the store, I glanced down at the sink and saw it. I had to look a little closer to make sure my eyes weren’t deceiving me, but sure enough, there it was—a ring of grime around the faucet. Honestly! All the kids had been asked to do was clean the bathroom. The beautiful sunshine streaming in the window on that spring day only emphasized just how poorly they had done this seemingly simple task. It also emphasized my wrinkles, but that was beside the point. Is it too much to expect teenagers to put a little bit of effort into their chores? Apparently it is.
On a morning when I was already feeling critical of myself, it wasn’t much of a stretch to become very critical of my children. Before I knew it, I was hollering down the hall at them. “Am I the only one around here who can clean the bathroom well? Does no one know what it means to actually scrub the sink? Did you even have your eyes open while you were cleaning?”
I worked up such a strong dose of what I believed was completely justified indignation that I was determined to march them into that bathroom and show them just how horrible of a job they had done. I needed them to see the dirt they’d missed. I needed to point out that ring of grime around the faucet so that not only would they really understand my anger but they also would be sufficiently chastised into never doing it again.
But as I marched down the hallway toward their bedrooms I could hear God’s voice whispering to me. He called me to stop, to look more closely at my own heart in that moment. And what I saw there was far worse than the wrinkles I had spotted on my face just moments earlier. I saw a ring of dirt and grime and blackness around my heart that gave the sink a run for its money. I was instantly convicted, and felt so ashamed of my quick temper and the desire to see the worst in my children. Grime around a bathroom faucet isn’t really harmful, but the grime around my heart most definitely is. It’s the grime that drives me to be so quick to criticize the very people I love the most. It causes me to lash out in anger and frustration instead of acting with love and gentleness. It causes me to focus on all their flaws when mine are so much more obvious. Or at least they should be more obvious.
In order for me to show grace to those around me, I not only have to be aware of my own need for it, but I also have to be willing to let go of my expecations of others.
How can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me take out the speck that is in your eye,’ when you yourself do not see the log that is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take out the speck that is in your brother’s eye. (Luke 6:42 NASB)
Isn’t it always so much easier to spot someone else’s grime? Our sinful nature tends to get great pleasure out of finding fault with others. It’s as though by seeing their flaws we are distracted from seeing our own. On that day, my desire to point out exactly how my children had failed was very tempting. But how can I not extend them grace when my heavenly Father extends it to me over and over? Author and inspirational speaker Emily Freeman says, “Showing grace means releasing someone of the responsibility to meet my needs.” In order for me to show grace to those around me, I not only have to be aware of my own need for it, but I also have to be willing to let go of my expectations of others. Does this mean I excuse my children’s behavior or never reprimand them for disobeying? Of course not. But it does mean that I have to approach them differently. I have to do what God does for me. Hope for obedience, but offer a heavy dose of mercy and forgiveness when they don’t do as I’ve expected. My job isn’t to be a spirit breaker; it’s to be a spirit restorer. And that definitely won’t be accomplished by hollering about their lack of cleaning abilities.
Behold, you delight in truth in the inward being, and you teach me wisdom in the secret heart. Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones that you have broken rejoice. Hide your face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities. Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me. (Psalm 51:6–10 ESV)
Soon I could feel God righting my spirit. I quietly made my way back into the bathroom. I looked down at the sink again and realized that it wasn’t actually as dirty as I thought it was. In fact, the bathroom was fairly neat and clean. The kids really had done a pretty good job. I turned off the light and went to thank them for cleaning the bathroom.