Daddy broke the attic.

As I've mentioned a handful of times, during a recent squirrel rescue attempt in my attic, a friend put his foot through my bedroom ceiling. It was not me that technically broke the attic, but the blame is still largely mine.

So now, when my daughters spill something at dinner or break a cup, they have been instructed to instantly say, "Daddy broke the attic." It's a simple statement that kind of puts spilled juice in the right context. "No big deal," they say, "Juice is just juice, my dad knew I might spill and break things even though I am trying my hardest."

They enjoy the freedom of being able to say that and it made me think, do I ever do the same thing with God? That is, when I fail, do I ever instantly lean on the truth and grace of the cross? Why can't I in a moment of failure, call upon a much greater promise than just "daddy broke the attic" and say, "Christ died for me?"

Not that my sin or failure is not a big deal, but it has already been paid for. The cost has already been paid. And saying "Christ died for me" when I break something might help me remember that I too am a child at a very big table. I too have a father who loves me and cares for me. And I too have been provided an out from the sin I commit.

Christ died for me.