From the time she was a toddler and throwing spaghetti in her high chair I knew that someday we would have to have that talk.

I’m not talking about The Talk: the sex/menstruation/development talk. You know, the kind that begins with sweaty hands and ends with facial contortions and big sighs.

That almost seems breezy compared to the one that plagues my darkening mind as I drift off to sleep. The one that I know will come someday, inevitable, as hot and unwelcome as the Santa Ana winds every fall.

It’s The Talk when I have to tell her that I was unfaithful to her father before she was born. And that I was distracted by my own selfishness. That I self-medicated with diet and exercise  when she was a baby. I’ll have to tell her that I loved her father but that I loved myself more. I’ll have to have That Talk with her.

And it makes me cringe inside.

I’ve had some friends who have already had those talks with their daughters and sons, and I know that amidst tears and questions, God brings healing and restoration. I know that having to have That Talk gives my daughter a powerful stage for a heart explosion toward God.

I hope that it will teach her about the

never-exhausted

always-open

wide-expanded

grace of God.

I’m hoping that my pain and mistakes will have one more chance to right themselves in this world. That there will be one more place that I will be witness to God bringing beauty from ashes.

{Little-girl witnessed kitchen kisses between a husband and wife might be proof their world will never split apart from divorce. Hands-held over dinner and whispered prayers in each other’s ears will show our daughters that we love Jesus more than anything else.}

I dread That Talk. I dread the hurt it will bring; that knowledge will cause pain in the tender heart of my daughter. I dread it.

But what I’m trusting is this: that God will teach all of us together that there is always another chance at the grace of God. That there is always a place for me at the table. That the family will never be too full and that open arms won’t tire of waiting open, shoulders strained at the endurance.

Because that is exactly what He did for me. For us.

Maybe, hopefully, That Talk will teach her that very thing.

Have you had a difficult Talk with one of your children?

This post is part of the Idea Camp: Sex Blogging series for Family Week. Idea Camp: Sex is next week and I think you can still register. To register click here. To follow Idea Camp on Twitter, click here. To view a list of Camp Guides, click here. AND if you are coming, email me to let me know so that I can be sure we can meet! sarah (at) markleytech (dot) com.