“Can you even read?” yelled the crossing guard, gesturing toward the “No Parking” sign. Running late dropping my daughter off for school, I had pulled into an unused bus lane.
Tears started welling up. The hurriedness of the morning and the crossing guard’s rude behavior left me hungering to be treated with some grace. At home, the tears spilled over, as I thought, “Why wasn’t he nicer?” and “Couldn’t he tell we were running late?”
I was heading down a path of self-righteousness. I started, instead, to consider my plea to God for grace.
