The Wrench

My children have played nicely today, well, for most of the day. They were in the garage working on their skate boards and scooters when my son came running in crying---again. I recognized this cry, it was the same one I heard from the stomping episode. I hurried out to see what the problem was and he threw himself into my arms, relaying his sad story to me, "sister hit me over the head with a wrench!"
"Why did she hit you over the head with a wrench?" I asked
"I don't remember!" He replied flatly.
I wasn't really too excited to go find out for myself, but since I am the mother I figured I should. So, I found my shoes and headed to the garage. The neighbor girl was here again and I asked her if she had witnessed the fight. She had indeed and volunteered the information. My daughter had certainly picked up the wrench and slammed it into his head simply because she did not get her way. Hmm, this is not good.
"God", I pondered, "do you feel this way with me on a daily basis? Because I am frustrated with my daughter who throws herself into fits of self pit and rages of temper when things don't go her way. She is six, but when is she going to grow out of this?"
My daughter was sitting on the stair waiting her trial and punishment, but I didn't know what to say at that point. I simply asked her to clean up the skate boards and scooter and go in the house. My conversation with God needed to be extended before my conversation with her went any further.
My son seemed to forget that his head had been wrenched and he went on as normal. They are now playing again as if nothing at all happened. Maybe that is what grace looks like for a child. Maybe that is what grace looks like for me too, today. Jesus, speak truth when there are wrenches, and when there is stomping and when I am misbehaving. Jesus, give me the grace to just move on and clean up the mess and then go to the next task at hand. Jesus, Say That Again, You are grace, truth, and you clean it all up. You are the answer.