Dad Showed Me Grace

I was fortunate to have Christian parents who modeled Christ-like grace in our home. When I think of my parents’ grace, one specific instance comes to mind. It happened late in my teenage years. I had hurriedly left our family dinner table to meet a friend. In my haste, I failed to look in the rear-view mirror while I sped in reverse out of our driveway. My progress was interrupted abruptly with a loud, crashing bang. I had backed my mother’s car into the driver’s side of my dad’s car. Fearing the worst, I slowly walked back into the house to inform my dad of what I had done. I walked into the kitchen and said to my dad, “I just backed mom’s car into yours.” He put down his fork, lowered his head into his hands, as all of us waited in anticipation to hear what my father would say. He slowly lifted his head out of his hands and nodded it from side to side in disbelief. Then he looked at me and said some amazingly freeing words: “They’re just two pieces of metal.” Grace.