Tangled

When my daughter was born, I saw her curly head of hair and shrieked!  Ooh!  A girl with curls!  Tickled pink (again:), I set out to quaff this one like the other one- bows, little ribbons, and "the fountain" until her hair really grew in and I could style it.  (Pause here to say, thank you Lord Jesus for my girls.)  However, as it grew, my hair confidence wavered.  I couldn't style it like my straight-haired other.  It ended up looking like a q-tip. I had this ongoing fear that she would say when she got older, "Mom, really?  Why didn't you do something to my hair? A q-tip?  Terrible!" So I did as any caring mom would do.  I bought product.  I strapped my little q-tip headed baby in the stroller and took her to Aveda.  They hooked me up and it has been easy sailing since then.

I only wish that were true.  You see, there are curly haired rules to follow. If you break the rules, the q-tip comes back, with a vengeance. And you are stuck moisturizing and fixing again. If only vanity were the issue.  You see, I have to brush her hair every day. With conditioner.  I do this because the big tangles (my mom always calls these "rat's nests") hurt. They hurt terribly. I hurt having to brush it and she hurts and some days I just quickly put it in a pony tail and call that rat's nests "volume".  (What woman doesn't want volume, right?).

I realized if I brush it daily, with conditioner, it doesn't hurt as bad, and she can wear it down by her face, how she likes it. (Fact: True princesses really wear their hair down and touch it gently.  Pony tails are reserved for marriages.  I just nod and say ok).  So I have this brush, the "hair genie", my conditioner concoction, a little Doc McStuffins and we brush.

I have found that my relationship with Jesus is much the same. Life happens.  I get busy, wander away, stop reading the Word, forget to pray, and I get tangled, or at least feel that way.  Because my "religion" isn't a religion at all.  It is a relationship.  Not a "to do" list of how to live, but a living, breathing, relationship.  You see, Jesus has been so real to me that I just can't stop Him. And the times I just don't feel like doing (fill in the blank), I pray for a desire.  Because He knows how I am, he made me, and he reaches in my rat's nest and straightens me out.  I am not striving for perfection, but to know him more.

My routine as I get ready has been to pray. (I am a much nicer person to be around if Jesus is the first one I talk to.  Just ask my husband.)

Do not let your adorning be external- the braiding of hair and the putting on of gold jewelry, or the clothing you wear- but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God's sight is very precious.  I Peter 3:3

I talk to my girls about why I wear makeup.  I explain that unlike the world, God only looks at the heart.  I talk about the story in I Samuel 16:7- Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.  I talk about why we Crossfit and how it makes us healthy and I focus on getting stronger.  My girls watch me lift heavy weight. I pray their memories are also of mommy lifting the weightiest book ever-the Bible.

I pray this same prayer as I brush my little's hair. Lord, help them see you are truly all they need to feel beautiful.  They are bought with a price.  I pray out loud. I pray Scripture. And I do a lot of talking. One of mine isn't reading, so I am her spoken Bible.  I pray God's spirit to move in and around us, through us and to bust the roof off our house with His presence.  (And then I pray for him to really not "bust" the roof, because I just don't want that, but to "bust" it more like "bust a move".  He gets me.).

And when things get really messy, I am reminded that sometimes the best lessons come from the biggest rat's nests.