One frigid January morning, Tom scraped my windshield. I had an early-morning appointment, and I was running late. By the time I crawled into the car, the windshield had iced over again. The scraper wasn’t in its spot, so I frantically grabbed a small metal box in my purse. It worked great and I was on my way.
Two days later, I was petrified as I drove facing the sun. There was a scratch on the glass. Not just one scratch, but multiples. My husband is quite fussy about his vehicles, and I dreaded telling him.
The men in the therapy clinic had plenty of advice.
"Call SafeLite. They will come to you now and fix it and your husband will never know.”
“Why didn't you use a credit card?"
One even went outside to see. “Yes, I would kill my wife," he said with a grin.
I couldn’t concentrate on the therapy session because I knew I was doomed. Thankfully, my husband didn’t kill me. Neither did he berate or blame me. Even as I cried and begged forgiveness, he hugged me. “It can be fixed.” We had hoped it could be buffed with a coating, but the scratches were many and some too deep. This would cost more money.
I continued to criticize and condemn myself. How could I have been so irresponsible? What was I thinking, or why wasn't I thinking? Every single time I sit in that car, I am faced with the consequence of my careless, thoughtless actions. Those scratches seem to go deeper and deeper.
Soon my car will have a new windshield, and I will be freed of my guilt over this costly act. I will remember every time I look through that glass how costly my mistake was. I have a new understanding of my sin “ever before me.” No matter how many times I try to rub away the scratches, I can’t. Apart from replacing the windshield, I have no hope.
God, in his amazing grace and mercy, has forgiven me. As I come to Him in tears of sorrow, He reaches down and removes all the scratches. He gave me a new windshield. I see it every day, and I am filled with joy.
When you’re scratched deep, let Him buff away the divots.
(Photo courtesy of microsoft office.)
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Barb Suiter enjoys hearing God whisper in the events of everyday life and sharing biblical truths and principles from those moments. She does this through writing, teaching, and ministering to women in Lebanon, Tennessee, where her husband serves as Associate Pastor at Immanuel Baptist Church. As grandmother of thirteen, there are always stories and delights to share.