The Shattered Pool Liner – A Story of Forgiveness and Grace

What started out as a boy's reckless defiance became a lesson in the power of forgiveness and grace.

Like many young boys, I dreamed of being a professional athlete. I thought my best chance was Major League Baseball, so day after day I would take my wiffle ball and bat to the backyard, throw the ball in the air, and swing with all my might. If baseball didn't work out, the National Football League was my backup plan. The biggest obstacle to the NFL was that I was not that big, so I set my sights on being a kicker. On many a cold New England winter day I would tee up the football, perfecting my field goal technique.

I had a natural set of field goal posts in my yard – the deck of our above-ground pool served as the perfect target with an opening where the ladder led up to the deck's surface. I can't count the number of times I won the Super Bowl with a perfectly placed kick.

I recall bragging to my father one day when he came home from work, and although he encouraged my practice, he did note an inherent risk with my regimen. In the winter the lining of the pool became very brittle, and if one of my kicks didn't clear the pool, the football could cause the liner to shatter, and that would be costly. With that warning, he banned my backyard kicking practice.

But ambition proved stronger than obedience. The call to the NFL was too strong, and I ignored his prohibition. I had been doing this for weeks without him knowing and never once did I do any damage. After all, elite kickers don't miss their targets.

Except when they do.

The ball went sailing and perhaps I didn't make solid contact, but it looked like it was going to come up short. It did, and what my father had warned me of happened. The liner shattered, and I shuddered!

It seemed like it took forever for my father to come home from work that day, and I was expecting the worst. He was not a man given to anger, but I had blatantly disobeyed, and he had every right to be angry.

But his response gave me a lesson in forgiveness I remember to this day.

He was upset, but his anger was controlled and his solution was gracious. Instead of punishment, he offered partnership. He proposed that come springtime we would buy a patch and he and I would repair the liner together.

I still remember that spring standing in that pool with my father, glue and patch in hand, repairing the damage done by the rebellious son. The patch worked just fine, but it was not pretty. The color didn't match the sun-faded liner, and the glue left a rough surface on an otherwise smooth liner.

For years that patch remained, and although it reminded me of my rebellion, it carried a far greater message. That mismatched patch became my introduction to divine love. A message of love and grace. Of forgiveness and mercy. A message that reminds me of the love of another Father.

My father taught me a lesson that even though I rebel, I have a Father who forgives, and even the pain and scars of my sin can be a reminder of that. He is loving, graceful, forgiving, and merciful always seeking restoration over retribution.