Wednesday, March 22, 2017


One of the unexpected side-effects or benefits or consequences (depending on your point of view) of living closer to my grandkids is the opportunity it gives me to relive my own kid’s exploits.

When my grandkids balk at going to bed, I remember my own under-age night-owls and the strategies I used to get them to sleep. The few tricks that worked and the many that didn’t.

When the puppy hoovers around under the baby’s highchair, I think of our youngest son. We were sharing dinner with pet-less friends and I’d been recounting (okay, bragging) about what an amazing eater our youngest was. After the meal, however, I discovered a pile of peas and mountain of corn under his booster seat. How could that be? Humiliatingly, I realized my son’s stellar eating habits were actually our dog’s atrocious table habits.

I can’t help smile when the three-year-old stands defiantly with hands on hips and shouts ‘No!’ How often her dad’s independence drove me to distraction. I marvel how he handles her.

Recently our grandson accidentally broke a window. That reminded me of the time I let our son play golf in the back yard. Did I mention we lived beside that church?  Yep. Golf ball through a window. Thankfully, not a stained glass one.

What is interesting to me now, is how his dad remembers that event.

At the time, I’d wondered: were we too lenient? Were we too tough? But as I hear our son recount the incident to his trembling son, what he remembers is grace.

                                            Grace in a broken window.

For the first time I thank God for the opportunity he gave us, all those years ago, to share His grace with our own trembling little boy.

The window has long been replaced. The incident forgotten—mostly. But the impact it had on our son has not faded.

Neither has God’s gift of grace. It’s as potent today as it was when we first believed.

No matter where we go in life, or what we do, God’s grace is there for us.

What could be more wonderful than that?

Do you have your own stories of grace? Do you share them with others?

Jayne E. Self lives in Canada, just a few blocks from her grandkids.
Visit her at or Facebook.


  1. Oh yes - much grace I guess, although I don't know I thought of it as that at the time! We too lived next to a church. And it DID have stained glass windows. In our case, it wasn't a golf ball. It was a tennis ball. And what was worse, I had chased the culprit out into the garden to "beat up a tennis ball"! She did. But she missed the wall and it soared through the church window. Ohhhh. Grace was needed in abundance!

  2. Good to hear we were't the only ones! And I didn't call it grace then, either. :)