In all of our lives, there are inevitably moments that we wish we could "rewind."  Recently, several incidents in my own life have reminded me that Christ’s grace is better than any remote control.

A few days ago, I was startled when I witnessed my youngest son strike out in anger at my oldest son while they played together with the train set.  As soon as Bryan hit David, you could tell by the expression on Bryan’s face that he knew he had made a grave mistake.  After our usual prayer and consultation, Bryan said to me, "I wish Jesus would rewind to the time right before I hit David."  I chuckled and thought to myself that Bryan had been watching too many movies.

Fast forward 24 hours ... The day was not going as planned for me.  As I read to the kids, the little ones became louder and more physical than normal, and I grew more and more irritated with every passing paragraph.  Finally, the children seemed to get quiet, and I was able to read about three chapters of the book.  I was halfway through the fourth when they started fussing at each other again.  I tossed the book down (just a bit harder than necessary), declared reading time over, and sent all the kids to their rooms.

For the next forty-five minutes, I heard nothing but bickering among the kids.  As I tried to get a simple lunch made, I had to stop every few minutes to have a consultation with a child.  It seemed our house was infected with a virus of unknown origin.  This virus had the unmistakable symptom of grouchiness and it infected even me.

After taking three times longer than usual to get lunch on the table, I went to settle down at my computer for a bit of writing time while the kids finished up lunch and worked on their usual afternoon assignments.

At this point, I was constantly bombarded with children asking questions, most of which were completely irrelevant to the assignments they had been given.  Within a few short minutes, I was sick of hearing my own name.

I tried to calm my nerves, but I could do nothing.  Just when I would take a deep breath, once again I would hear from another room, "Moooooooommmmmmm, can you come here?"
 
I began to count my blessings and thought momentarily that I had too many.  Suddenly all the blood rushed to my head, and I let out a scream.  It didn’t relieve me, it only made me feel extremely embarrassed.  Then, to make matters even worse, I told my husband that he was now in charge because I was leaving!

I slammed out the door, got in the car, and began to drive.  I contemplated the airport, but I knew that would not help.

Recently, I had been feeling quite depressed for no apparent reason.  Seeking a way out of my depression, I opted for a perm.  Forty-five minutes of alone-time with the Lord in the car was extremely helpful.  In fact, I thought that perhaps I was ready to return home.  However, I had driven all this way, I may as well get the perm, I reasoned to myself.
As I sat being tortured in the salon, I thought to myself that, after the childish way I acted at home, I really deserved to have my hair pulled and tugged.  It almost comforted me to know I was getting a little bit of what I deserved for my behavior. 

I don’t often find myself in a depressed mode for very long, so this bout of depression had taken me by surprise.  I was also quite upset that I couldn’t seem to just pull myself up by my bootstraps and be happy and content.   Even though I had spent a good deal of time alone in the car talking to the Lord, I still didn’t think I had quite recovered from the yucky feelings.
 
For some reason, I was convinced that getting a perm would make me feel better and make me look like Julia Roberts.  The only problem, of course, is that I am way too short to look like her.  And I don’t have nearly as many teeth.  As the stylist worked on my hair, I glanced into the mirror and noticed that I looked a lot like my mom.  It wasn’t the look I wanted.