There are days I wonder if Eve felt like this.
Boys who yell and fight and scrap for power can turn a house upside down, and leave a mama disillusioned and broken-hearted.
The same family blood runs through all these boys’ veins, but sometimes it seems like they flow with fire and gasoline.
I send the offenders to separate corners of our house-made-boxing-ring, and these words are what ring in my head:
Our family sits at a crossroads, waiting for grace. You can’t force a heart to love someone. Some people must stumble a few times before they learn to lean on God.
God has a knack making a mess into something more.
I look at my boys and I call on the name of the Lord.
Eve and I, we are both mothers looking for redemption. There is only one way for that to come to any family, and the blood of that sacrifice cries out to God, too. This time, though, it cries out
These blood brothers of mine, they are learning together to live the gospel. They are learning forgiveness. They are learning grace. They are learning how to be mad yet not sin.
The lessons are all being hashed out in the boxing arena called brotherhood. They have many years ahead of them to figure it all out.
And this mama can learn to wait patiently for God’s miraculous grace.