I recounted yesterday the story of an encounter with Child. You can catch the backstory there.
The way the story ends (for all concerned, especially you grandparents) is Child making the choice to do the right thing. But there's some good stuff that happened in between the cliffhanger yesterday and the sentence written above.
My heart was breaking. It really was. To think that Child could try to pay me back was both offensive and saddening.
It was offensive because I didn't give Child the backpack and lunchbox because I expected something in return. I did so because I loved the kid. How dare Child impugn the character of my love by thinking I can be paid back by money. So I said, "The way you pay back love is love." That's a quote. You can write that one down.
It was saddening because I could afford to buy Child a thousand lunch boxes and backpacks. But what I wanted was a confession, some humility, and the restoration of the relationship. So I reached out and hugged Child, letting the tears from sweet cheeks that I've kissed many times fall on my arm.
And I think that's when the brokenness set in. Smack in the middle of my embrace of someone who was so wrong.
And all the sudden, I knew what it felt like for God's kindness to lead me to repentance (Rom. 2.4).
In the embrace of someone who is so often so wrong, there's the Father's heart.