When my oldest was a toddler, he stood at his train table for hours playing and imagining. But sometimes he built the hills too tall, and all the train cars flew off onto the floor. He’d stomp, scream, and throw the misbehaving trains across the room. After a few times of this, something had to change. I sat him down on the couch. “Carter, if you keep treating your trains this way because they don’t do what you want them to do, what happens when a friend makes you mad? We must learn how to treat our toys better.”

Sometimes he would calmly comply, but other times I sent him to his room to calm down and reset. A little while later, I would see his little head peak into the living room. “I ready, Mama.” And then he’d start over and do it repetitively until he could pick up his trains gently and set them on the tracks.

This reset and redo practice continues in our home. I’m a firm believer that kids not only need to know what they did was not the right thing, but they also need to know, in that moment, what the correct response looks like.

Fast forward. My youngest son, Daniel, who is silly, sarcastic, and sometimes sassy, came around the corner to join us at the supper table. I love to joke with my children, and sarcasm naturally falls from my lips. This particular day, Daniel pushed the edge of the envelope with his sarcasm, and it turned into disrespectful sass. Immediately I confronted his words, “Daniel, you might have thought that was funny, but that crossed the line and was disrespectful. Go back around that corner and do it again.”

He did an about face, retraced his steps, then paused. From around the corner I heard, “How to talk to Mama, take two.” He clapped his hands together and rounded the corner like a brand-new kid.

My husband and I locked eyes and picked up our plates to block the laughs that tried to escape our lips. Daniel never missed a beat, even with us holding our plates up as barriers.

I laughingly shared this story with a group of friends this weekend, and instantly God reminded me that he is the God of resets and redoes. So often we botch it; but he’s always there with forgiveness, grace, and open arms. We might have to practice the same situation again and again, but through his infinite wisdom, he allows the rehearsal until we are ready for the real moment.

Aren’t you grateful for God’s second chances? Think about the many times he has allowed resets and redoes in your life. Stop and thank him for those second—and third, and fourth—chances this week.