I watched as she smashed each of the framed certificates given to her by the most important people in her life.
There was the one from her best friend thanking her for being a great listener and helping her through a particularly difficult
time. It was then that they both knew they'd be friends for life.
Crash, went the ones from her students awarding her for excellence in teaching.
They said she had a way of making even the most mundane of topics fascinating.
There were some that when they slammed to the ground were accompanied by wails of torment.
Her husband applauded her for her efforts as a wife and mother and her dedication to making their house a home.
The ones from her children simply stated they could not be the people they were today without her.
Crack, went the frame from her siblings that said they couldn't have asked for a better sister.
It was in these moments...I had to turn away.
As the room stood littered in debris of glass and torn paper, her attention shifted to the other wall.
It was covered ceiling to floor in all of her failures.
Each in seemingly unbreakable steel frames.
A reminder of all the things she couldn't complete.
All the unfinished goals recorded in meticulous penmanship.
Some of which she couldn't even recall making, but nevertheless,
undone and unaccomplished.
What happened next can only be described as God's grace.
As she stood mesmerized by her failures a line began to form at the door.
It wrapped around the hall and down the stairs
and stretched out her front door.
Leading the way were her husband and children, parents and siblings.
One by one carrying a new certificate in odd sizes and various colored frames.
Quietly they nailed each certificate to the wall
stating the original reason it was presented to her and made their way out.
Her husband stood watch, exchanging hugs and thank you's with those who came.
Her Father was the last to go.
He ran his fingers along her wall of accomplishments with tears in His eyes.
He paused for a moment at the frame He had put up and sighed.
Before exiting the doors, He suddenly turned and made eye contact with me.
I felt embarrassed that He had seen me.
But His reaction was not one of anger.
He merely nodded in recognition and gave me a smile that ensured me
everything would be okay.
And I knew that she would be fine.
My heart felt light again.
I wanted to witness as she saw the miracle of what her loved ones had done for her, but I knew there was no need.
As I turned to walk away, I came face to face with her wall of failures.
Failed to finish school, failed to lose twenty pounds, failed twice to complete a pregnancy, failed to go to church today, failed to say family prayer, failed to save money this paycheck, failed as a parent, failed as a wife.
I was overwhelmed.
No wonder she couldn't peel her eyes away from this wall.
I looked around for her with a sudden urgency to pull her away from all the grief and failure.
But she was no where to be found.
I turned to the other wall.
Her wall of accomplishments.
It was filled only a fraction of the way in comparison to the other side.
I drew closer, compelled to know her name.
I would seek her out and tell her what I saw...
remind her of the goodness and love she had so abundantly in her life.
I was surprised to find that each certificate except for one, was presented to a title rather than a name.
I searched endlessly until my eyes rested on the one that had it.
The title on this one is what was listed on all the others as the person the certificate was presented to.
I began to read it anxious to know her name.
I realized as I read, that this was the frame her Father attached.
It stated...
"This genuine certificate declares that YOU are A Child of God."
"May it help you to always remember who you are. "
Presented to_____?
The name was mine.
There was the one from her best friend thanking her for being a great listener and helping her through a particularly difficult
time. It was then that they both knew they'd be friends for life.
Crash, went the ones from her students awarding her for excellence in teaching.
They said she had a way of making even the most mundane of topics fascinating.
There were some that when they slammed to the ground were accompanied by wails of torment.
Her husband applauded her for her efforts as a wife and mother and her dedication to making their house a home.
The ones from her children simply stated they could not be the people they were today without her.
Crack, went the frame from her siblings that said they couldn't have asked for a better sister.
It was in these moments...I had to turn away.
As the room stood littered in debris of glass and torn paper, her attention shifted to the other wall.
It was covered ceiling to floor in all of her failures.
Each in seemingly unbreakable steel frames.
A reminder of all the things she couldn't complete.
All the unfinished goals recorded in meticulous penmanship.
Some of which she couldn't even recall making, but nevertheless,
undone and unaccomplished.
What happened next can only be described as God's grace.
As she stood mesmerized by her failures a line began to form at the door.
It wrapped around the hall and down the stairs
and stretched out her front door.
Leading the way were her husband and children, parents and siblings.
One by one carrying a new certificate in odd sizes and various colored frames.
Quietly they nailed each certificate to the wall
stating the original reason it was presented to her and made their way out.
Her husband stood watch, exchanging hugs and thank you's with those who came.
Her Father was the last to go.
He ran his fingers along her wall of accomplishments with tears in His eyes.
He paused for a moment at the frame He had put up and sighed.
Before exiting the doors, He suddenly turned and made eye contact with me.
I felt embarrassed that He had seen me.
But His reaction was not one of anger.
He merely nodded in recognition and gave me a smile that ensured me
everything would be okay.
And I knew that she would be fine.
My heart felt light again.
I wanted to witness as she saw the miracle of what her loved ones had done for her, but I knew there was no need.
As I turned to walk away, I came face to face with her wall of failures.
Failed to finish school, failed to lose twenty pounds, failed twice to complete a pregnancy, failed to go to church today, failed to say family prayer, failed to save money this paycheck, failed as a parent, failed as a wife.
I was overwhelmed.
No wonder she couldn't peel her eyes away from this wall.
I looked around for her with a sudden urgency to pull her away from all the grief and failure.
But she was no where to be found.
I turned to the other wall.
Her wall of accomplishments.
It was filled only a fraction of the way in comparison to the other side.
I drew closer, compelled to know her name.
I would seek her out and tell her what I saw...
remind her of the goodness and love she had so abundantly in her life.
I was surprised to find that each certificate except for one, was presented to a title rather than a name.
I searched endlessly until my eyes rested on the one that had it.
The title on this one is what was listed on all the others as the person the certificate was presented to.
I began to read it anxious to know her name.
I realized as I read, that this was the frame her Father attached.
It stated...
"This genuine certificate declares that YOU are A Child of God."
"May it help you to always remember who you are. "
Presented to_____?
The name was mine.
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