Yesterday was a rough day.  Usually I try to deny those kinds of day any power and seek to reach bedtime with a tired sigh and a counting of grace gifts, but yesterday. whew.

The loads on my shoulders got more numerous as the day went, between painful phone calls, ignorant business mistakes, teen attitudes and general neediness, and that ongoing unknown about the “where” of the next job.

Sadly, my frustration and pain poured out on one of my daughters toward the end of the afternoon, just lashing her with words that were neither helpful nor beneficial.

Even though I apologize and asked her for forgiveness later in the evening, and even later crept into her room to pray over our relationship, bedtime was a quiet sorrowful time.  The morning greeted me with the knowledge that while my daughter said she forgave me, the word wound was still there.  All I could do was get up and greet the day, the family and wait for the healing that follows the act of forgiving.

And then there it was, the smile, a gift full and complete.

²⁹ Let no unwholesome word proceed from your mouth, but only such a word as is good for edification according to the need of the moment, so that it will give grace to those who hear.