That moment when you check you online account balance only to find that the numbers have changed from black to a very disheartening red. You've done it again.
You've overdrafted.
As your world slowly begins to crumble in the background, you ponder all the things you could have bought with the money the bank is going to charge you for your stupidity. That's right. You are going to pay $32 for stupid.
32 dollars is equal to:
- One really nice date
- Two decently nice dates
- One GRE study book
- Almost a tank of gas in the Buick
- Three drinks at Starbucks
It's embarrassing. It's a mistake I've made too many times in the past few months. I'm twenty-one years old, and I can't seem to figure out that a small number minus a bigger number is always a negative number. Always. My-LAN-ta!
I sat at the computer and thought through my options, which were few. One was to wait till my next check came in... the other was to scream in frustration and then wait until my next check came in. I carefully selected the latter.
"Effffffffffffffffffff!"
Which brings me to where I left off. When I make silly mistakes like this, I often think back to 5th grade. A teacher I adored used to hear out our excuses for late assignments, smile slightly and answer with the apathetic phrase I least wanted to hear. "Tough." You lost the worksheet? Tough. You had to clean the bathroom last night and didn't have time? Tough.
You didn't check your freaking account balance before you went out to eat? Awwwwwwwww. Tough.
I learned quickly how pointless my excuses sound to the rest of the world, and from fifth grade on, I slowly stopped making them. If I do something stupid, if I drop the ball, I gotta gird my loins and pick up the slack myself. It's my fault, and therefore, I have to suffer the consequences.
I was explaining my thoughts on consequences to Jordan one night, when he asked me a question that shocked me.
Had I prayed about it?
What?!?!? Of COURSE not! I messed up! It was my own stupid fault! God was sitting near the Pearly Gates, crowned in Glory, arms crossed, saying, "Tough, Libby. Tough." Why would He lessen that responsibility I had? Why would He take away that consequence?
Jordan paused for a moment before his next shocker question: "Well, where's the grace in that?"
Walls fell down. Isn't that what Grace is anyway? God taking away the consequences?
God taking away the consequences of my stupid?
And here I thought I had this whole saved-by-Grace-through-faith thing down. Wrong. I realized there were areas of my life that I didn't think God would forgive. But if He has taken away my ultimate consequence, who's to say He wouldn't forgive me for the little things? Why couldn't I ask Him to take away that tiny fee if He had wiped clean my hate, my gossip, my conceit and self-righteousness? All those things make $32 dollars look like a year's interest on my savings account.
~Let's rethink Grace and make sure we haven't made it conditional~
P.S. I haven't had to pay my two overdraft fees from this year. One the account contract covered, the other disappeared from my account history. Two more stains, washed away =)
