“And that’s how it’s done,” Grandpa said. “Would you like to try?”

Bobby stared at Grandpa, his mouth open in wonder. “Could I really?”

Grandpa grinned at him. “Of course. You won’t hurt her. Come, sit on the stool.” He rose and stood to the side.

Bobby took a seat on the low milking stool and mimicked Grandpa’s gestures, squirting milk into the pail until it was full. “I did it, Grandpa!”

A moment later the old barn cat scampered across the barn, chasing after a mouse. Bobby jumped up and the pail tipped, splashing milk all over the barn floor. “Oh no!”

Grandpa clapped a hand on Bobby’s shoulder. “It’s OK. It’s not the first time milk has been spilled in this barn. We’ll take care of it later. Let’s finish the chores.”

Bobby followed along after Grandpa, kicking up dirt as they walked across the farm. Grandpa stopped in front of an old water pump and handed one of the buck­­­­ets to Bobby. He lifted his ball cap and ran his fingers through his hair. “You’ll need to fill about ten buckets to fill the cattle trough. It’s been hot, and those girls are bound to be thirsty.”

Bobby peered at the pump as Grandpa demonstrated how it worked. “Where does the water come from?”

“There’s a stream over yonder.” Grandpa pointed to the tree line at the edge of the property. “My own grand daddy installed this pump. It taps into the water that feeds the stream but we don’t have to walk all the way to the woods.”

Bobby nodded and began pumping the water into the bucket. He hefted the pail with both hands and followed after Grandpa to the cattle enclosure. They each poured a bucket into the trough.

“Do you think you can handle filling this on your own?” Grandpa asked. “I need to get over to feed the horses.”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Be sure to latch the gate.”  

Bobby nodded and trudged back to refill his bucket. After two more trips, he returned to the enclosure to find the gate standing open and a mother cow following her calf outside the enclosure. “Grandpa!” Bobby screamed, unsure of what to do.

Grandpa appeared a moment later and shooed the cows back into place. He put a hand on his hip and stared into Bobby’s eyes. “You need to latch the gate every time.”

Bobby burst into tears. “I’m sorry Grandpa. I forgot.”

Grandpa’s eyes were kind. “I’m not angry, son.”

But earlier I spilled the pail of milk, and yesterday I…”

Grandpa held up a hand. “I’m not keeping track. I’m grateful you’re here visiting. I’m not going to run out of forgiveness, no matter how many mistakes you make. And neither will God. It’s like that pump. No matter how thirsty the cows get, there’s always more water. The stream keeps flowing. As long as the pump is connected to the water of the stream, the water will keep flowing. And if I stay connected to God, I’ll have the grace to forgive you, too, not matter how many times you need it.”

Bobby stared up at Grandpa’s tanned, wrinkled face and at that moment, knew exactly the kind of man he wanted to grow up to be.

1 Timothy 1: 12-14

I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who has given me strength, that he considered me trustworthy, appointing me to his service. Even though I was once a blasphemer and a persecutor and a violent man, I was shown mercy because I acted in ignorance and unbelief. The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly, along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.

God, thank You for never running out of grace. We certainly don’t ever run out of reasons to need it. Please help us to extend grace to others the way You do. Thank you for the people in our lives who show grace to us.   In Jesus’ name, Amen.