I Broke My Grandmother's Heart

I’ve always had a bit of a rebellious streak in me, but I was a relatively good kid. So I never did anything too crazy. Still, one of the most hurtful things I ever did happened on my grandmother’s watch.

We’ve always had a great relationship. When I was her only grandchild, we’d take trips together, visit family, play games, and laugh a lot.

As I got older, she found ways to keep me coming on those trips. One year she let me invite friends. So I brought my best friends Kris and Allie (my one-day wife) on a trip to the mountains of North Carolina. It was a great trip. She gave me a lot of freedom. Remember, she trusted me.

One evening I asked to borrow her minivan so we could go cruising. She said yes without hesitation. What she didn’t know was that we weren’t cruising, we were hunting for a tattoo and piercing shop. Kris and I had just turned eighteen. We were in a punk rock band. And nothing says punk rock like a lip ring.

Admittedly, the punk rock spirit didn’t run in me like it did Kris. I chickened out on the tattoo, but Kris went through with the piercing. When we got back, there was no hiding it. My grandmother was absolutely floored. And my attempt to comfort her with the information that I planned on getting a tattoo but chickened out, didn’t help. Sure, she didn’t like tattoos and lip rings (Few grandmas do), but the bigger issue was that I broke her trust. I hurt her. That’s about the worst I’ve ever felt.

Eventually I made it right, and she forgave me quickly. More than twenty years later she’s one of my biggest cheerleaders.

We’ve all hurt people. More than that, we’ve hurt the heart of God. The question is: how does he respond? Is he anxious to judge us? Or is His heart bent toward something else?

This Sunday we’re looking at the Prodigal Son, and discovering that while God is the holy Judge, He is also a Father who loves.