Do you have your own special language that you speak in your family? Words that evolved from kid-speak to commonplace in your home, yet would draw a quizzical look from anyone on the outside?
We have some of those. In our home we eat “Chicka bars” (nutrigrain bars) and we routinely call the grandparents “Mow Grandma & Grandpa” and “Kay Bop-Bop” (there’s a story behind each, but that’s another blog post for another day ).
And then there’s “grace”.
Awhile back, our 3-year-old girl received a red, plastic cross necklace as a Christmas gift from her teachers in the BSF group we are a part of. Somehow — and we’re still not sure how — she started calling it her “grace”…and now, any time she sees a cross, that’s what it is: a “grace”.
This past Friday, as I was reading the story of the crucifixion from her children’s Bible, she saw the illustration of the three crosses on the hill, and she asked me “Why are there three graces?”.
I don’t think I’ll correct her, because I love it. We see a cross — she sees grace.
For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing;
it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.