Once again the breakfast bar at our kitchen counter was strewn with homework papers and books. There was no place for a cereal bowl or even a spoon. I was frustrated. How many times do I have to tell her to put her stuff away? It was late. I was pooped.  She’ll hear about this in the morning.

Yet, the morning came, and I was unusually chipper. Amazing what rest can do.

She stumbled down the stairs into the kitchen on her sleepy mission to prepare for school. I had a choice. I could conjure up my frustration from the night before and let it fly. Or I could pull her aside, place a loving arm around her shoulder, and turn her toward the breakfast bar. Then ask calmly, with a lilt in my voice and a grin on my face, “So my dear, how do you expect anyone to eat breakfast with all your stuff on the counter?”

I chose the latter. I chose it because I’m a bit older, grayer, and wiser these days. You see, I’m parenting for the second time around. I have four mostly grown and launched children who have flown or nearly flown from the nest. They were my guinea pigs. I tried all sorts of parenting experiments on them. Thankfully they’ve lived to tell about it.

Yet in the middle season of my life, with my nest appearing more empty than full, God brought me new test cases—three little girls. Sisters. Filled with pain. Needing a mom. And believe me, I feel woefully inadequate for the job. Most days, I shoot up prayers for wisdom on a moment by moment basis.

But on this morning, I had an extra ounce of wisdom.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“You are forgiven,” I said. “And loved.”

You see, I figure she can’t hear those words enough.

And truth be told, neither can I.

What words do you long to hear today? Perhaps your kids need to hear them too.