Saturday, November 3, 2012

Left Behind


It finally happened.  I got the phone call I thought would never come.  Friday afternoon my daughter called me from school.  She didn't have to say a word.  I knew what she needed.  Before she could say anything I said, "You need me to pick you up from school.  Don't you?"  (I only pick her up on Fridays.  She rides the bus the other days).

Her response broke my heart.  With tears she said, "Yes.  I've been waiting."

I know I've disappointed my girls before, I'm not perfect.  But I've never forgotten them.  I felt terrible! 

I jumped into my van and obeying the speed limits, couldn't get to her school fast enough.  My rejected daughter waited alone on the bench in front of her school, watching for her irresponsible mother to rescue her from middle school.

I picked her up, apologized perfusely, and drove her to Sonic for a drink and cheesecake bites.  Nothing could make up for my mistake. 

We began talking about being forgotten, or rejected.  I had many stories of rejection to draw from (however, my mom never left me), but I chose stories from the Bible.

We talked about Jesus being forsaken by His Father on the cross.

 I can't imagine what God the Father felt when He had to reject His Son because of my sin.  I felt bad enough picking up my daughter thirty minutes late.

We talked about Jesus feeling what we feel.  Jesus understands what it feels like to be rejected.  He empathizes with us.

Even though Jesus forgave those responsible for his gruesome crucifixion (Luke 23:34), I didn't feel it would be appropriate to point that out.  I didn't want to belittle my actions and say, "Just forgive and forget."

I did, however, ask her to forgive me.

She said she forgave me. (But, I doubt she votes for me as "Mother of the Year").

We also talked about Hagar and Ishmael (I'll have to save that for another blog)

I'm linked to my friend Kathy Gossen's blog cornerstoneconfessions



  1. Goodness, I hate those moments! Nothing worse than feeling like I failed at the one thing I want to succeed at more than anything. I keep trying to remind myself that perhaps my failures are a gift to my children as much as my "good" moments. If I want them to learn grace, forgiveness, and saying "I'm sorry," the best way is for them to see me working out those details in the imperfections of my own life.

    1. Thank you for understanding, Michele. I'm so thankful for forgiveness, especially from my children.


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