God has been using this time of quarantine to use extremely simple things to teach me profound truths. Maybe it’s because we have been forced to slow down enough to finally notice, or maybe God, in his all knowing grace, has been keeping my mind busy with epiphanies so I don’t spend as much time worrying. It’s probably both. But regardless of His reasons, I have been the recipient of some intense self revelations.

The most recent one occurred this past week when my oldest began comparing her performance chart with her sister’s. Becoming a teacher/mommy has been a challenge and I will admit that I am not above a little bribery to encourage cooperation during the school day. So I broke out The Charts. I’m sure every parent has used a chart at some point and I’m sure there is some psychological principle behind the benefits of having a visual reference for behavior maintenance. But, to be honest, I didn’t even think about the pros and cons or the developmental implications. When you have one child who stubbornly RESISTS instruction and another who stubbornly PERSISTS in creating her own rules, you reach a point where you just grab whatever tool you can to reign them in. In our case, it was a behavior chart.

The concept is simple. At the beginning of the day they see five empty boxes on their charts. For each “subject” they complete in full cooperation and effort (or in the youngest’s case, no tantrums or destruction) they get to put a sticker on the chart. At the end of the day, if they have all five boxes full, they get to play a little of their daddy’s video game. It’s a weird game where the object is to roll a sticky ball all over the place and pick up literally everything you can. I don’t get it, but they like it. And, incidentally, the youngest has already found a way around losing her privilege to play by commandeering our giant yoga ball and rolling it around the house pretending to pick things up. But I digress.

Back to the charts. One evening last week, I was the bearer of bad news when I informed them both that neither one had earned enough stickers to play the game. Our oldest responded, “Well, at least I got three stickers and SHE only got two.” I immediately replied, “It doesn’t matter how many more you got! You still fell short!” Mid-sentence I could hear my inner self saying, “OOOHHHH!” And I got it. The concepts of grace and forgiveness and my sinful nature all started swirling in my mind as I finally grasped the idea that my “good” is never enough. No matter how good I’ve been compared to the people who have wronged me, I will never be better than them. I will never deserve heaven more than them. I still don’t have enough stickers.

How humbling! But, what a week to have that revelation! Through Jesus’ death on the cross, He wiped those charts off the wall and replaced them with a standing invitation. “Come to me!” “Believe in me!” “Join me!” All I have to do is RSVP with a resounding “YES!” And I’m free to partake in his eternal life, which is much better than a sticky ball video game.

Now, the physical sticker charts will remain on my wall for the time being, because I need all the help I can get with my red headed scholars. But I will never forget God’s grace for us in removing our spiritual charts. Neither will I forget his mercy by offering us an invitation to a party we definitely don’t deserve to attend. And the least I can do is offer grace and mercy in return. So I’ll let the little one roll the exercise ball around the house. It’s probably better for her anyway. And I’ll tell the oldest I’m proud of her for counting all the way to 100, even if she whined and moaned through most of it. And at the end of the day, I will be that much more grateful for the Cross, for Jesus taking all those lost stickers and turning them into an invitation I don’t deserve. Thank you, Jesus! Amen.