The Broken Picture Frame

Several months ago we invited some missionaries over to our house for dinner. It was one of those moments for me where you think  God wants you to do something, so you do it. Then you kinda sorta regret it.  Anyone else ever feel that way? 

It wasn’t a great evening. It was awkward…long…did I mention awkward?! Their kids were kind of out of control. And by out of control I mean jumping on our bed (how did they even get into our bedroom?!), dropping my little 5 lb dumbbells on the floor like it was a game (sorry neighbor downstairs – don’t worry, this is only temporary!) and running face first over and over again into our sliding glass door. A couple of hours after we left we found that one of our favorite picture frames from Ethiopia had been broken. 

For the past several months I have had a hard time letting that awkward night go. I don’t look back on that night fondly and too often I allow it to taint my attitude toward them. I know it’s just a picture frame – it’s just a thing which doesn’t really matter. I wish that they had told us – it seems easier to show grace when someone owns up to a mistake. But if that’s what I’m looking for, it isn’t really grace at all – certainly not the kind of grace that God shows us.

Today as I’m packing up to move I wrapped that broken picture frame in newspaper and some unpleasant feelings about that night started bubbling up. Then I realized, here we have in our living room a reminder to pray for a family doing God’s work in a country far away and a powerful reminder of reflecting the grace to others that Christ shows to me. 



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