Grommets and Grace

I’ve been on a mission to get our little town home in the ‘hood ready for baby #4. Fitting a fourth in this two-bedroom place will require creative genius. So I got on Pintrest looking for space-saving solutions, and after seeing the simple genius of removing cumbersome closet doors, I decided to replace most of our bi-fold closet doors with drapes.

After hours of searching for the perfect drapes for the basement, I finally found them in the “catalog returns” section of an outlet store. But the drapes had a major issue: a missing grommet (see pic on right). But since the manager was willing to give me a smoking deal, I bought the drapes hoping I could find a lone grommet to fit the naked hole.

So yesterday afternoon I spent two hours running from Home Depot to Michaels to Jo-Ann’s hoping to find a lone grommet for sale. (They only sell them in sets of ten—imagine that!)  In the midst of my hunt I called Jon to ask if he knew of any other places to look for my lone grommet, and he didn’t pick up his phone. I called again. No answer. Frustrated at my fruitless search, I stooped to desperate measures:  I went to a couple thrift stores hoping to find a rejected curtain with a grommet hole I could pry off with a screwdriver. As I wandered around the Salvation Army thrift store, I called Jon five more times. No answer.

I could feel the frustration boiling under my skin. My “smoking deal” was turning into a pay-a-lot-of-money-in-gas-for-no-reason disaster.

So after calling Jon about ten more times. . . I gave up the hunt and drove home, and as I drove, I fumed about the fact that Jon didn’t answer his dang phone!

When I walked through the front door, I threw my purse and keys on the buffet, stomped into the kitchen, and found Jon wiping down the table. I snapped at table-washing hubby: “Why didn’t you answer your phone! What if the van broke down?!  I –your pregnant wife--would have been stranded on the side of the road. ”

 Jon just looked up at me with blue-eyes laughing, sponge in hand: “Well, did you break down?”

 I stared into his laughing-at-me eyes and tried to stay mad: “You should ALWAYS answer your phone when I’m gone!”

 “What’s got you so worked up?”

“A missing grommet.”

 That’s when laughing-blue-eyes chortled loud: “A what? You mean like, Wallace and Grommet the movie?”  

 “No!” I huffed: “Grommets are for curtains! I’m missing a grommet in my new curtain!”

Jon: “So. . . . you’re biting my head off because you can’t find a grommet . . .” Snicker-laugh, “ Grommmmmeeetttt. . . . Sorry, can’t help myself. Just like saying that funny word: grommet. So you’re telling me that you’re all worked up because you can’t find a grommet?”

His snicker-laugh turns to belly-laugh and I can’t stay mad anymore. I laugh with him, and I see: I’m being selfish-silly about this missing-grommet thing!

 And laughter reminds me why I love this man: when I’m selfish-silly, he doesn’t lecture or scold. He just states the obvious:

 I’m giving missing grommet joy-stealing power.

Jon’s laughing-eyed correction of my selfish-silly heart, this is grace. A gentle correction from God through my hubby. 

And I realize: missing-grommet moments happen every day:  jam on the couch, legos on the floor, gum on the carpet, lost keys, burned dinner, tough Math lesson, sibling spats. And everyday I have a choice—to extend grace through patient cleaning, correcting, and training, or to receive grace—the gentle correction of my own selfish heart when I respond with angst and sloppy-hurtful words.

So today I choose the grace that brings JOY, and when I mess up (which happens every day!) I choose corrective grace which molds this wayward heart to my Savior-God.

So, this morning, this afternoon—let’s choose grace.