Coffee beans?

My table "centerpiece" is no longer assorted candy the kids always tried to eat when I wasn't looking. Now, it's my trifle filled with coffee beans and fake greens. I like the way coffee beans makes the house smell. It also might possibly be the dumbest thing I've ever done.

We set up for school this morning at the table. Evie had her Mickey coloring book and crayons and a snack. I told Jackson to sit tight while I ran to grab something. I got distracted by something on the computer  instead. When I returned to the table, Evie and Jackson were sitting ON it. Though they were not eating jelly-beans this time (see, I got rid of those), they were throwing individual coffee beans from the centerpiece onto the floor.

It was not my finest moment, to say the least. I might have pitched a tiny (okay, not tiny) fit. I yelled and even pointed my finger and said words like "bad" and "why would you do that?"

Ultimately, I was annoyed at myself because I knew that had I not been distracted, there wouldn't have been 873 coffee beans on the carpeted floor. My kids talk like they are adults, but they are 3 and 1. Of course they would throw coffee beans on the floor. It was probably great fun! I felt terrible for yelling though because even after I did, they willingly helped me pick them up off the floor. Should my kids learn not to climb on the table? Sure, but to yell and be angry? Not exactly the parenting style I strive for.

I carried the heavy weight of guilt the rest of the morning even after getting back on track with school and lunch and my own attitude check.

At naptime, God spoke to me. I'm not called to be a perfect parent - one who never gets angry or yells or mishandles a frustrating situation. I'm called to show my kids the way I found salvation: through Jesus Christ and His bountiful mercy and my own unearned gift of the cross. And so, I apologized to both kids for being angry (not for being frustrated, mind you), and as part of our naptime prayers together, I asked God to forgive me for responding in anger and yelling, and I thanked God for that forgiveness I didn't deserve.

Jackson smiled at me, and I know he got it.

If I simply wanted to teach my kids how to be good, moral people, then modeling carefully perfected behavior would be fine. Andrew and I would never argue in front of the kids, and no one would ever say or do anything unkind. But, that's not my end goal - and I don't think it's realistic, at least not authentically. Of course I want my kids to be good to other people and have high standards for themselves. Character development is an integral part of our curriculum. But, more importantly, I want them to understand that God, who loves them unconditionally for who they are today and every person they will be in the future, sent Jesus to die on the cross for them, for sins past, present, and future. If that's my ultimate goal, then who am I to not see my own failures as an opportunity to show my little loves where grace originates and flows freely?

If my kids see me make mistakes, ask forgiveness of the person I've sinned against and of God, and believe in mercy and grace wholeheartedly, then maybe freaking out about coffee beans on the floor isn't missing the mark quite the way I feared.