The Grace of a Stranger

We've all been there. The frazzled mama doing all she can to keep her children from a nuclear meltdown, quietly daring anyone to make a rude comment about her children. If you are like the rest of us, then you've been a witness to a meltdown and even probably thought if that child was mine, he wouldn't behave that way. You never know what is going on in a situation. That is where the Grace of a stranger comes into play.

The Grace of a Stranger

The mother in the waiting room appeared calm and rested.  Her children were quiet and well-behaved, talking softly to each other.  Several people questioned if they were "all hers" and complimented their sweet temperaments.  She simply smiled and thanked them, not mentioning the years of training that went into the moment or the quick pep talk that occurred just before entering the building. 

After a relatively short wait, the nurse called them back.  Her eyes popped a little as the children streamed by and piled into the small room.  She was polite, though, and just smiled.  A few questions were asked, and she took her leave promising that the doctor would be "right in".  

Minutes passed.  The room grew smaller and the air seemed to be rapidly being sucked out.  Those same cheerful children from the waiting room were slowly wilting, barely resembling their former selves.   The poor mother was flushed and frazzled, as her best efforts were failing to convince her perspiring babies that they would survive.

After nearly an hour, the doctor blew in, cheery and upbeat.  He glanced around the small examining room and took in the sight of children scrambling to pick themselves off the floor, in an attempt to keep up appearances.  He smiled.  His eyes rested on the two grumpy babies, loudly chewing on the rubbery ends of medicine bottles.  He just stood there for a minute, saying nothing.  And then he turned to the worn mother and beamed.  

He seemed not to notice that everybody's once neatly combed hair was now matted to their heads, or that the magazine so thoughtfully placed in the room to pass time was a bit crumpled and a little damp.  He didn't mention the fact that the strip of fresh white paper lining the exam table had gone from crisp to wrinkled and torn.  And it didn't phase him that this mom-of-many was sporting spatterings of spit-up on her previously clean clothing.  Nope, he saw only one thing.

That though everybody was hot and tired and had been left waiting far too long in a room far too small, they were smiling and helpful.  He wasn't concerned that the 7 year old girl had become fascinated with the privacy curtain and how it rolled forward and back.  Instead, he was impressed that when her older brother accidentally knocked her in the head, she just rubbed it and laughed.  When this mother was sorely tempted to narrow in on all the little things that were draining her energy, the doctor was busily pointing out all the good.

After a thorough exam, that resulted in the recommendation of further investigation by a different specialist, the hobbling boy was released from captivity.  His eager family scurried from the room with him!  But as the boys' mother was bringing up the rear of her little brood, her mind wasn't on what the doctor hadn't been able to tell her.  It was rather consumed by what he had.

That it was okay for her kids to be kids.  That combed hair and tidy clothing and perfect posture didn't impress him.  That he wasn't drawn to quiet, severe little children that had been carefully trained to "perform".  It was the spirit within that called to his heart.  An inner joy and peace that blinded him to the "poor" behavior making the mother cringe.

Thank you, Doc!  

Perhaps today, by the grace of God, I will see my children as you have!

Kasey at Walking Redeemed