Today, I made a mistake.

Let me start off by saying that yes, I make lots of mistakes.
But today I started something different afterward. 
I want to keep this mindset. I will strive to keep this mindset. For my children,
And for all of those that I love, and they love. 

Today....
I reacted too fast.
My tone was sharp.
My words landed harder than I meant them to.
This has happened before, but today?
Today God interfered. 

Today, I saw it on my children's faces—
That flicker of confusion, the sting of disappointment, the flinch of a heart learning what it means to trust.

I didn’t mean to hurt.
I meant to protect.
To guide.
To teach.
But instead… I wounded.

And my God, the guilt that followed.
That ache in my chest.
That internal dialogue that said, “You’re messing this up. You’re supposed to be better. You should know better by now.”

But that’s when the whisper of grace broke through the noise.

I knelt down.
I took a breath.
I looked into their eyes—so full of emotion and still willing to meet mine—and with trembling lips and a broken heart, I said:

“I’m sorry.”

Not if you felt hurt.
Not but you should’ve listened.
Just… I’m sorry.

No conditions.
No defenses.
Just repentance.

And by reflecting on that moment, I realized something deeply holy had taken place.

Because saying sorry doesn’t make me weak.
It doesn’t make me a bad mom.
It makes me real.
It makes me human.
It makes me the kind of parent who doesn’t just preach grace but demonstrates it.

I feel like I say this all too often, but God doesn’t ask me to be flawless.
He never required perfection from me—only presence.
He doesn’t want a performance.
He wants connection.

He asks me to love deeply.
And when I mess that up—to repent just as deeply.

Because I’m not just raising children—I’m modeling what it means to own your mistakes.
To make amends.
To come back to the table.
To lay pride down and pick grace up.

And the truth is:

One day, my children will grow up and hurt someone, too.
They’ll say something they regret.
They’ll cross a line.
They’ll stumble, as we all do.
And when they do, I pray they’ll remember this moment—not the mistake I made, but the holy thing I did after.
I will keep practicing and keep showing them with every mistake I make....
At least I will try to. 

AND I'LL HOPE that by doing so, they’ll remember that strength doesn’t mean never being wrong.
It means being willing to be humbled.

I'LL HOPE they’ll mirror the grace I offered them…
Because they saw me mirror the grace God offers me.

So yes—today, I messed up.

But today, I also showed my children how sacred it is to make things right.

Because in this home, we don’t strive to be perfect.

We strive to be redeemed.
To be honest.
To be held.
And I am now striving to listen more to Him!
Even when we fall short.

And if that isn’t holy ground… I don’t know what is.