My family moved off the farm when I was three years old. Dad
had to settle some business with the Ford tractor agency where he had done
business over the years, and dragged three of us children along in the car.
While he went in, he explicitly warned us not to get out of the car; that he
would only be there for a few minutes.
While waiting for him, I spied a toy tractor in the showroom
window. I sneaked out of the car, into the agency, crawled over a barrier into
the place where the toy tractor was being displayed and happily played with it.
I don’t remember how I got back to the car before Dad, but my other two
siblings couldn’t wait to squeal on me and my disobedience.
The trip home was in silence. I was expecting a scolding at
best, and a whipping at worst. I suffered deeply waiting for my fate. Nothing
happened. Several days later, my Dad surprised me with a gift of a toy tractor
exactly like the one in the showroom window of the tractor dealership. I
couldn’t have been more ecstatic. Instead of punishment, I received a reward. I
received unmerited favor, the definition of mercy, of grace, of forgiveness. Perhaps
it was because I was only three years old. Perhaps he was hoping to help me to
adjust to the recent move. Whatever his motive, I did not deserve what I
received.
Over the years I’ve carried this story around with me as a symbol
of God’s offering of forgiveness to me; to everyone. Several years ago when
presenting my spiritual biography for a seminary class, I found a toy tractor
much like the one I had received from my Dad those many years ago (pictured
below). I display it in a prominent place to remind me not only of God’s mercy
to me and my Dad’s love, but also to remind me to treat others with the same
kind of forgiveness and unmerited favor.
Now, once again with thanks to my Dad, I have a REAL tractor
to remind me of God’s love and mercy as I mow the lawn.
No comments:
Post a Comment