God, Giraffes & Grace by Leila Carr

We are delighted to welcome Leila Carr today as our Guest Blogger. We hope you will enjoy reading about her own expression of kindness towards her three-year-old granddaughter. It felt like a window into God's kindness towards his children.

As I read Brenda Leyland's April 7th post entitled Bumping Into God's Kindness, a familiar emotional response arose—what many describe as "a lump in the throat." Brenda spoke of God's kindness as she learned to trust in his goodness, running to him not from him. She shared how he later eased her troubled mind by showing her a picture of her precious Kitty near the end of her life, resting in his hands.

I am pleased to be a guest contributor here at InScribe where I can share with the community some joy in growth from my own journey. While I have long since received understanding and restoration from the effects of a shame-based childhood, these poignant lines Brenda prepared touched me deeply, as this physical response testified to. What happened next as I continued reading sent tears down my cheeks. Along with this watershed came a memory—no, much more than that—an experience I had rarely thought of.

Several years ago, my preschool grandchildren came to spend an impromptu afternoon with me while their parents took care of some errands. Grandparents among us who are three or more decades removed from the intensity of child-raising understand the potential tornado effect of wee ones full of vitality and curiosity turned loose. Every nook and cranny becomes a space to be explored.

Such was that brisk afternoon. As my back was turned retrieving one half of that twinado who had laid siege on the pantry wares, a thunderous breaking glass sound erupted. There was no time for thought or reaction before the shrill scream of a three-year-old pierced the air with "GRANDMA!!" This was rapidly followed by loud wailing and then the appearance of a three-foot-tall distraught youngster toting a head in each of her hands with some rather irregular shaped necks of two formerly intact, goodly sized ceramic giraffes.

For her, this was an emotionally startling, devastating emergency. Startling because all the giraffes in her life had always been stuffies like her best friend from the popular Jellycat brand, named "Student." And devastating because of shock and fear. How did this happen, and now what is going to happen to ME?

As soon as we set the now "rest in peace" giraffe pieces down, we snuggled until comfort restored her to calmness. In the midst of this embrace, I forged a plan with her to start a whole new ceramic giraffe collection. Yes, each time we found ourselves in a giraffe kind of store, we would (hands off) interview giraffes to see whether they would be suited to coming to live at Grandma's house.

As I began the clean up of the ceramic situation my little explorer's joy was heard to be restored as she giggled with her brother who had by now discovered the whereabouts of their favourite sour jelly candy.

I am so grateful over time to have received transformation from shame to grace. One of the finest gifts of the spirit is to be able to comfort others with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.

(Top)Photo credit: Leila Carr

Leila lives in Edmonton, AB, currently re-imagining a new chapter of retirement. She enjoys nature walks, non fiction in general, and especially biography.