from Ron Rose
January 14, 2008

Preparation

I didn't like the accordion; I wanted to play the guitar, but my mother like the 1950's TV icon, Lawrence Welk and she thought I should learn to play like him, not Elvis Presley. So for 3 years I endured accordion lessons and by default learned to play a few songs, much to my mother's satisfaction.

Then came the infamous night of the Boy Scout Talent show; I was third on the program, dressed in a coat and tie, no less. The song listed next to my name was “Lady of Spain” and I knew it by heart.

“Ronnie Rose is up next with his accordion. Here he is, the next Lawrence Welk.”

I hated that introduction. A waited a moment trying my best to disappear, then pushed myself out into the lonely, glaring light, and without thinking, commanded my 5th grade fingers to hit that keyboard running. They obeyed, but launched into the song from the wrong starting place. It was horrible... all wrong. Instead of stopping, owning the mistake and starting over, I surged ahead trying to find my place as I went along. Actually I think I got the last measure right. It was way beyond embarrassing.

I quit that night. For several weeks, I blamed my mother, the accordion, the lighting, the announcer, the song, the program, and the two girls back stage. It took months for me to finally own up, to admit it was my doing, my bad, and my fault. One night God and I had a long talk about it, but I still never played the accordion in public again.

Faith giants know how to own up; they have learned the, sometimes painful, truth that holding grudges and blaming others for personal mess-ups is a relentless burden that drains passion and power from life. They have discovered the liberation that comes from surrendering the “blame card." Faith giants take the heat and own it; they have learned to stand their ground and admit mess-ups. This confession, by the way is life in the deep end. God lives there.

It hurts to mess up, to fail, to make the big mistakes, and God doesn’t take the pain away, or keep us from failing in the future. He just loves us anyway. He takes us “as is” and never runs out of “Start Over” cards.

Inspiration

The parenting class was over. It had been a good series and the evaluations were very positive. I was still celebrating the success when I walked into the house. The girls were totally out of control. They were screaming at each other, blaming each other for some lousy stain on a sweater, slamming doors and throwing stuff at each other. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. Here I was fresh from teaching people how to parent, and I had kids that were totally loosing it.

I yelled, “Stop it! Now! We don’t talk to each other like that in this house.”

“But Dad…” came the reply.

“Hush, not another word,” I demanded.

I blasted. I separated them, condemned them, blamed them, and grounded them. I was furious and they were in tears.

When I finally walked into the kitchen my wife asked, “Did the class not go well?”

“Did you hear them? I can’t believe you let that happen.” I continued the tirade.

“Well Mr. Parent Educator, they were practicing a skit for church.”

Those words hung in the air like flashing red lights in the rearview mirror. I was devastated. My first reaction was anger at my wife for letting me go on my rant without telling me the real story, but I had been so worked up I had nailed the girls before she even had a chance to intervene. It was my bad. Guilt and remorse overwhelmed me. There was only one thing to do, only one.

When I got to the bedroom door, I knocked and asked if I could come in. “Girls, I feel horrible, I judged you, I hurt you, I messed up big time! All I can say is that I love you and I really hope you will forgive me. And I would be honored if you would pray for me and ask God to forgive me for the way I treated you tonight.”

And, with hugs and more tears, they did. Oh, one wanted a new car and the other asked for more allowance.

God showed up that night and left his fingerprints on my girls. I got one of those “Start Over” cards and a deeper appreciation for them and my God. I surrendered the "blame card" and owned up. It was the right thing to do, regardless of how my girls responded. Their forgiveness was their choice, their right thing.

Motivation

Two truths will shape this week for you.

One. God takes you “As is,” mistakes and mess-ups and all. That's a faith step, accept it. Celebrate it.

Two, although God never runs out of “Start Over” cards, there is only one way to get one; you’ve got to knock on the door, surrender the "blame card" and ask. Do the right thing. Say the words; admit the failure, own up. Ask for forgiveness. Wait for his deep water gift, the touch of solid ground.