Iced Window Carnage

So, Cavin and I got up early this morning to go outside to look at the ice buildup after the freeze last night… Cav went from water puddle to water puddle with his modified ice pick (an old paint roller w/out the roller) hacking away at the 1/4 inch thick ice. It was great fun.


After about an hour I decided to go inside the house to check on Lizzie and Cami. I of course got distracted and didn’t think about checking on Cavin for about 20 minutes. I approached the back door and looked out the window. My eye was drawn down to the patio concrete just outside the door. I saw one of the windows I got in college- an antique solid wood, eight-paned latch window that could easily be 80 or more years old. They hang as decorative accents on our patio. I had taken them down a couple of days before because a storm threatened to blow them down.

What I saw boggled my mind… every pane of glass was gone except for a few broken shards still protruding from their grooved slots. I opened the door quickly and saw my son to the right, sitting on top of the second window and a pile of shattered glass. Three of the eight panes were gone from the second window and Cavin happily hacked away at the larger broken pieces.

I said, “stop!” and immediately picked him up and began to look him over, fearing that he may be seriously cut somewhere. Fortunately, he was wearing a heavy jacket zipped to the top and gloves on his hands. After I was sure he wasn’t hurt I stood up and looked at the carnage and those innocent eyes of his looking up at me with a mixed expression of questioning an fear.

I stood there swirling in my mind- was I upset about my broken windows? Was I overcome with relief that Cavin was not hurt? Why in the world would he smash all of the glass out of my precious antique windows? And then I looked at him and said, “ok, I can see how you got there…”

The ice in the buckets and canisters looked, sounded and broke just like the glass in those window panes. I wasn’t mad- in fact, I was cracking up inside. I still let him know it was wrong, but he wasn’t in trouble- I was just glad that he was ok.

As I walked into the house holding Cav I couldn’t help but think about all of the times God has felt the same way about the things that I have done and has reacted with nothing but love, grace, mercy and acceptance. What a beautiful father we have! I want to be more like that on a regular basis, I want it to be the rule, not the exception.


One Comment

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  1. Very nice my friend. Very nice indeed.


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