I had one job. To get my grandchildren to school on time this morning. The careful list of instructions left by my daughter spelled it out clearly.

“Leave the house by 7:15 am.”

I am clever. I remember the ordeal a simple task of loading the car can be. We stepped out the door at 7 am sharp with the idea fifteen minutes to load would be ample. Silly me. It’s been too long. I should have started at 3 am.

The Boston Terrier escaped when the door opened, which was no big deal because she self-potties and runs back to the door. Unless there is a raccoon in the yard. She took off like a bat out of hell and disappeared into the woods.

First the children went in hot pursuit— but to no avail. They were impressed how their skittish dog penetrated the forest with no reserve. Then it was my turn. Into the woods I went.

Looking up, I spotted Olive’s obsession in the branch over my head. Leash in hand, eventually I corralled our domesticated crazed beast and coaxed her out of the brush and back into civilization. Enough adventure for one day— these kids must get to school!

Buckled back in, I press the ignition.

“Key fob not found.”

I am holding the fob in my hand. This is a push button ignition. Ugh!!! Ok, there is an emergency manual key hidden in every fob — I extract it and look for the insertion slot.

Dashboard. No. Under the cup holder. No. In the storage bay. No. Dash again. No. By my knees. No. Ugh!!! My grandson Brave mentions the penalties levied against him for arriving late.

Ugh.

Quick thinking, my beloved searches google “Mazda Fob Reset” and gets the vehicle to respond to the fob. Off we go! Thank you, Grandpa!

I do not know my way around Nashville. But I am quick with my GPS and equipped with the address pre-loaded. Only upon arriving at the first spaghetti junction, the options the program presented me did not match the road signs. Each road may have 4 names, but only a local can supply the names not present on the sign overhead. And I am no local.

Pulling off in heavy traffic, I switch programs and the alternate app chooses a route actually represented by signage. How was I to know it was a fifteen minute diversion to make a loop back around? And loop we did.

I prayed for a miracle- a teleportation wonder where somehow we pull into car line right on time. That miracle did not happen. My grandchildren were late to school this morning, my first day behind the wheel of their parenting, entrusted with their precious lives.

But a miracle had taken place, over a number of years actually. The miracle of being able to remain calm under pressure, the miracle of not accepting the shame offered me after failure. The miracle of seeing the humor in circumstances real time, even when the outcome feels like it makes me look bad. The miracle of being present and loving life and being connected to the God of the universe who is smiling at me as I navigate loving well in the midst of stress.
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Rescue comes in the form of a Person— through Divine camaraderie and empowerment. Today, in the midst of your own story, receive His provision and watch the same miracles unfold.

Just don’t.

Minds are changed by modeling a better way, through the expression of love and acceptance. Vitriol and call-out-spotlights alienate and trigger pride, an invitation for oppositional heels to dig in, a breeding ground for hatred and resentment.

We all have opinions. Strong opinions. The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil is laden with delectable fruit, branches weighted low enough for even the simpleton to reach to pluck “right” and “wrong” from its boughs. Dead-right ingested does nothing to strengthen bones.

But the Kingdom of God offers a better diet, nourishment from the Tree of Life. In Christ is Life, Love, Humility.

Solutions.

Christ came that we might have Life— life abundant. He supplies fullness of joy at His right hand, in life-union with Him... and access to the Wisdom of our Father, the mind of Christ and the counsel as well as the comfort of the Holy Spirit.

Reach higher for the peaceable fruit of righteousness.

Once again I had a conversation with a mother of a child with a diagnosis. Her son is now a young adult, and wants nothing to do with the church. He has hidden disabilities and was considered a behavioral nightmare throughout his childhood years.

Predictably, his mother shared how she is still dealing with the vestiges of bitterness left over from fielding the judgments of her peers and leaders from church... judgements against her son, and judgements against her parenting.

"Dealing with the judgment was almost as hard as dealing with my son!"

It's true. I experienced the same dynamic during those difficult years. It's a lament shared by many parents raising children with hidden disabilities.

​I want to remind the church of a few truths.

Christ died for us while we were sinners. (Romans 5:8) It's easy to have vision for "good people" to come to Christ. But the truth is, God doesn't just come for really nice, well adjusted people. He came for all of us, even those of us who are dreadfully broken, and emotionally unhealthy, and egads, even those of us who may parent poorly. So even if every single negative assumption you have made about my parenting is true, I am the object of God's attention, affection, compassion and love. As such, I should be yours too.

Christ Himself, the One who never sinned, didn't come into the world to condemn it. He came so that through Him, the world might be saved. (John 3:17) The focus is on offering a nail scarred hand up. Jesus came to destroy the works of the enemy, and you share Christ's mandate. (1 John 3:8)

Among other things the works of the enemy include marginalization, exclusion, the voice of accusation, diminishment and demoralization sown into the lives of entire families coping with hidden disabilities.

How will you serve to offer a hand up and destroy the works of the enemy?