Grace

One of my first Christmas memories is when my sister and I went to some holiday craft fair with my mom and while she went shopping with the pretty, sparkly glass things that she was afraid we would break, she plopped us down at the table in the corner to make "kid crafts".

We decorated sugar cookies aka got babysat by a probably 95 year old lady who looked like Cruella DeVille, and patiently waited for my mom to come back and get us. My sister waited so patiently, in fact, that she got a marshmallow Santa to put on her sugar cookie. I mean, come on. She was like 1 1/2 years old. How patient could she really have been? I'm sure it was her "adorable long blonde hair" that won her the coveted Christmas cookie decoration.

I was SO jealous. I had been SO excited to go home and show my dad the cookie that I had made. It was totally the best in the group. Until Mandy got the marshmallow Santa... I couldn't stand the thought of her going home and showing her cookie to my dad. He would think the marshmallow Santa was sooo awesome and she would probably get extra dessert too since she was so well behaved :)

I couldn't let that happen. On the ride home, when I was just in my booster seat and she was totally strapped into her car seat since she was still just a "baby" as I liked to inform her, I reached my stubby little arm down and grabbed her sugar cookie.

and ate it. :)

Problem solved. No one would see her cookie with the marshmallow Santa and my dad would love my cookie and I would get extra TV time :)

Well... That was the case until my baby sister saw the frosting on my face and burst into that annoying 18 month old baby cry :) Like the screeching, kicking, face is bright red, screaming ;)

Unfortunately, my mom put two and two together and realized what I had done.

All I remember is running around the kitchen, begging my mom to not tell my dad. I remember pleading with her. She was not going for any of my deals (like giving her my Polly Pocket Mansion), so I took a deep breath only 5 1/2 year olds can take, crossed my arms, and put my head down.

"Fine. Let her eat my cookie. That is fair. I ate her's she she can eat mine. Then Dad won't get to see mine either. I AM SO SORRY MOMMMYYYYYYYY!"

She grabbed my cookie (coconut "snowflakes" and all) and carried my sister over to the couch. She sat my sister down, turned on Little People (come'onn, you know the movies) and grabbed my hand.

Wait. This wasn't what was supposed to be happening. Mandy was supposed to eat my cookie while my mom lectured me and then I went to my room crying and was supposed to "think about what I had done."

We went into the kitchen and sat down on the floor. I remember my mom telling me that I shouldn't have eaten her cookie blah, blah, blah and that I made her sad blah, blah, blah and that my dad wouldn't have been more proud of her for getting the marshmallow Santa. She told me that she knew that it was hard to be a big sister and that I was doing a really good job. She was proud of me for always sharing my toys and even for watching my baby sister when my mom took a shower in the mornings.

Even though I'm not sure that was my mom's goal, that was my first lesson in grace.

I thought that letting Mandy eat my cookie was what HAD to happen. It made sense and was fair and was the only logical conclusion in my little pre-schooler mind. I ate her cookie, so I DESERVED to have her eat mine.

Do you know what I think is even HARDER than giving grace to others?

Giving grace to ourselves.

We sing songs, we study, we read books. We are taught to forgive others and shower them with mercy and kindness even if they may not deserve it in our worldly eyes.

Try forgiving yourself, or loving yourself, despite what you see when you look in the mirror.

It's really hard, and I think it's something we forget to do. We focus so much on giving grace to others (which is a GREAT and very important thing) but we forget that the same concept applies to ourselves.

I am just so hard on myself. If it's not perfect, then it's a failure. Working longer hours at work, or lowering my body fat percentage; logging more minutes reading my bible, or running any faster isn't going to make it all perfectly fall into place.

I can't earn grace. I must just accept it and know it is given to me to use.

So this holiday season while we focus on helping and giving to others, just remember to give yourself a little gift of grace as well. It's amazing how far it can take ya.

Thanks momma for teaching my little heart about love, and sorry sissy for eating your sugar cookie. Forgive me? ;)