Today… in bits and pieces.
We make so many mistakes. All the time.
“It’s o.k. to make mistakes.” It’s what I always tell my kids.
Lord cover our mistakes. Your love covers a multitude of sins. Your love makes up for practically anything.
So many faces flashing by in the hallway after church. Smiling, brown faces, eyes lit up, happy. So many hugs. I can’t believe they’re all here! And so many with their moms, brothers, sisters, families. The church was packed. And children’s church even more so.
Moms with their hair straightened, make-up on, cute outfits, coming for the first time to hear God’s message and be a part of the church family. Wow. Just wow.
We had a pinata at our picnic and it was just too overwhelming for one special boy. He has really poor impulse control and just lost it, lashing out and fighting anyone within reach. Scott had to restrain him.
“You’re angry,’ I said. “Really, really angry.” His eyes connected with mine for a moment and I saw his body physically release a little. “You wanted to be the first one to hit the piñata, is that right? You really like piñatas.”
He nodded his head. “And now you’re so mad you want to hit everyone in the whole park!”
“Yeah!” He said.
“Can I give you a hug?” I gave him a big hug and felt him relax even more. In the meantime the piñata was broken and kids dove for candy. He wept bitterly because he missed it.
“It’s o.k. to cry,” I told him. Scott got some candy for him and he was o.k. Face red and tear stained, but at least he wasn’t raging and trying to fight the whole world single-handedly.
We laughed about it afterwards. The piñata, that is. Because it was a complete disaster! It fell from the string, split open and children dove on top of each other grabbing for candy, others sobbing.
“I’m so sorry, Leslie,” Karen said. “It was totally my fault.” I just laughed.
Because, you know, at least she tried something!
She planned some games and organized a piñata. Yeah, maybe it didn’t go totally according to plan. But it was something special. An effort made. And it’s a message that says, “You’re special to me. You’re worth my investment of time, money and effort.”
The moms in the community see that, the kids see it. They feel it. It’s powerful. These consistent messages, sent again and again over time are what will change this community. Messages of value sent in a disaster piñata!
Those are my thoughts for the day… typed in less than 10 minutes… just because.