"Do you want a piece of me?"

We make weekly trips to the post office to release used books to others (and in turn, we receive free books that we desire to read; see my "A" list for more information). This week was not our ordinary pit stop, however. No, this week my Olivia might as well have asked someone twelve times her age, "Do you want a piece of me?"
Uh huh. You read that right. My girl was ready to rumble and it was no equal match.

I had given her a book and $2.00 to ship it via media mail. It's much easier to send Liv in than to go through the drill:

• get four kids out of their car seats
  
• waddle along like a pregnant duck with the infant carrier bouncing off my thigh (which, sadly, has a bounce of its own these days).
  
• stand in line with my clan while they gladly strike up conversations with anyone who will listen
  
• only to have to strap 'em all in again two brief minutes later.

It was a busy day, parking lot full, as Liv disappeared inside the building. Several minutes later, she came out in a stink-eyed flurry. I could tell by her stomp walk that she was not happy.
"You did not give me enough money, Mom. I need 79 cents more."
I reminded her that we need to watch our tone when we're frustrated, digging frantically through my purse for some loose change. Sheesh, I couldn't find a single dollar. I don't know how it's done in your home, but in our house this stay-at-home mom is very low on the ol' cash ladder. My 7 year old has more money than I do (seriously), thanks to her ever replenished stash, courtesy of doting grandparents.

"Do you need to borrow some money, Mom?"
"No (my blood pressure rising slightly as my cheeks began to burn), I have it here somewhere."

Half a minute later;
"Mom, I can lend you some dollars."
"No, it's okay (52 cents, 53 cents, oh thank goodness, a quarter). I've got it right here. Now take this back in and I'm sure the man will let you just step up front and finish."
Unamused, she fired, "I'm pretty sure he won't, mom. The line is so huge."

Well, what was supposed to be a quick "in/out" at the post office was now becoming a lengthy ordeal which clearly frustrated my 7 year old and left me looking like Pauper Mom (and if that doesn't sound like a pathetic superhero, I don't know what does).

Okay, so a few minutes later, Olivia reappears and I'm assuming all is well and we'll be on our way. Not so fast.

"Mom, I just saw the oldest lady I have ever seen. She was soooooo old, like maybe a hundred or eighty-seven or something. And she was so tiny, she could barely see the man at the counter. She was even shorter than Nana. But Mom, MOM! She was reaaaaally loud. She was yelling at the man, saying, 'You will do this, right NOW,' and he was sayin', 'I'm sorry, M'am, we can't do that,' and she kept sayin', 'Yes you will too, or I'll come back here every day until you do.'"

Okay, so I gathered that an elderly lady was clearly frustrated about some service she couldn't receive and perhaps didn't realize others were listening as she desperately tried to plead her case to the postal worker. We've all witnessed similar public scenes before(don't even get me started on my years working as a customer service rep in the airline industry). Still, I was not prepared for the rest of the story.

"Mom, that lady went on and on. I really thought I was gonna have to go up and tell her, 'You need to calm it down.'"

Hit the breaks! Cringe! My jaw dropped.

My thoughts began racing a mile a minute. Here, I sent my child in to mail a book and instead she's considering a rumble with "the oldest lady I've ever seen." This is not good. This is soooo not good. What happened to all the teaching we've done with our children regarding honor and respect for elders and showing grace and....................sigh.

I quickly reflected on our growth and walk as Christians, a walk that is ever being challenged. And growth that requires being continuously molded and shaped, as clay in the Potter's hands. My mind raced as I searched to find just the right words to say in that teachable moment. What came to mind (and mouth) was the message of grace. Grace! Even the sound of it is something very beautiful. I told my daughter that the elderly lady might have been unaware of who was watching and listening as she spoke sharply with the man at the desk. But we cannot forget who it is that goes with us at all times. Our Heavenly Father is there beside us. And when we fail to walk our walk in a way that pleases Him, we find mercy and forgiveness and grace.

Grace! God's unearned love. Knowing there is nothing I can do to make Him love me more and nothing I can do to make Him love me less. Grace is what my daughter needed to extend to a frustrated elderly woman in line at the post office.

I asked her if she understood what I was trying to say. She nodded in agreement, though I'm sure it's a message we'll have to revisit again and again in the growing years to come. And as quickly it had come, the teachable moment was gone when she turned her attention to the third row of our minivan and boasted to her younger siblings, "I scored us some suckers."

Ephesians 4:7 But unto every one of us is given grace according to the measure of the gift of Christ.