I sit and watch the water spill over precious pages.  Water I had just requested be taken to the kitchen, trying to avoid this now present mess.  And now, anger spills instead of water.  And just like the water cannot be put back in the cup, words spill that I can’t pull back inside.

Remorse floods over me.  Careless words, too harsh.  When will I learn?  When will they always see in me an example worth following?

Then He reminds me of who He is and who I am and that’s it’s ok.  There’s grace for this.  When I turn to Him and seek forgiveness, humble myself in front of my kids and ask them- again- to forgive this Mama, He has the power to restore and mend.

And then it hits me.

Maybe the example I am supposed to be setting isn’t all about getting it right, but about how to get hearts right.

Maybe them seeing me fall and run to Christ, in front of them, is more the goal than my carefully pretended perfection that never responds with a short word or careless remark.

Maybe I’m supposed to be pointing to The Perfect Parent, instead of pointing them to me.

Maybe, just maybe, the star of their life isn’t supposed to be me.

Maybe, just maybe, they have been given this imperfect Mama, to point to the real Star, their true Way.

Because isn’t Jesus supposed to be the Star of their life?

And I am here to point them to Him, not to me?

But- oh!- how I don’t want to point through my failures! No!  Through carefully crafted Bible studies, please.  Through calm emotions that never seem to ripple.  Through endless bedtime stories told by a never-tired matriarch.

But this is the way He has ordained.  The way of weakness (mine) and strength (His).  And so I offer up my failures, again, to Him.  Ask Him to make something from my nothing.  So that He can be the Star of our home, of our lives.

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.  1 Cor. 12:9