I was 6. I had lied about brushing my teeth once again. (gross, I know). I was caught red handed and I kept lying to get out of the lie. I knew it was wrong, and yet there didn't seem to be any other option. I wanted out of the situation, and so I lied. But she was on to me--as mothers are; she knew my game.
And when, though tears, I finally confessed to my mom that I was lying, instead of the punishment I thought was coming, it was something else entirely.
A hug, and quiet, loving words. "Lauren, I love you. You are my daughter and I just want what is best for you. But please don't lie to me."
I deserved punishment. I thought yelling, shame, and being grouded was headed my way. And yet, something different. Isn't that what is always offered to us by God? Something unexpected, different. So refreshing, and so undesereved.