Lately Aila thinks it's super fun to take off running down the street whenever it's time to load up into the car.
Seeing as how I end up chasing her down said street, I disagree about the fun part.
Today she was already two houses down when she tripped and fell, skinning up those cutie-pie little knees of hers. I scooped up my weeping little one in my arms and loved on her as I carried her back home to bandage up the owies.
How many times have I been running in the wrong direction with my God in pursuit of me? How often have I tripped and fallen along the way? And how often has He scooped me up, loved on me and bandaged up my wounds? More times than I can count.
But here's the thing: Aila still bears the marks of running away on her tiny legs. The evidence is right there beneath her Fairy Friends bandaid--a painful reminder of her run down the road--and a wound I did not want her to have to wear.
Even with my sin, failures, and selfish pursuits, I am clothed with redemption, forgiveness, and love. And yet underneath that robe of renewal, I wear bandaids. And beneath the bandaids, wounds that are healing--evidence that I tried to run away. I am forgiven completely and loved unreservedly. I don't doubt for a moment that He has taken my sin away from me as far as the east is from the west. But there are consequences of being on any path but the one on which He wants me to be.
I hope that tomorrow when we head out to the car, Aila will remember her scraped-up knees and resist the urge to take off running. But far more than that, I hope that as I walk in grace, I will remember the consequences of running away and choose to stay right by His side instead.
I don't want any more bandaids under my renewal robe, but more importantly, He doesn't want me to have to wear them.