Little Red Curls

                                

      I have a friend who has a daughter with carrot red curls. This baby's fine curls stop you in your tracks. The perfect ringlets make it hard not to reach out your hand to touch them.

I asked my friend one day, "How did you get her curls to look like that?"

   I have worn my natural curls without apology all my life. In the 90's when perms were all the rage it was easy, but when the 2000's hit with the flat iron taking hairstyle's main stage I declined the pressure to conform and live a straight hair life. But taking care of curls is not as easy as it may appear, as I look at this little sun-kissed face under the halo of auburn curls what I saw, more than anything, was her mother's love and care for her.

   It takes a lot of work just to allow this little one's hair to curl in all its glory. It reminds me how hard it is to raise our children and cultivate their uniqueness. The challenge to look beyond the struggles and moods is daunting. To piece together a plan for the child to shine in all her glory can even seem impossible.

     I realize now that I misunderstood the Christian life when I thought my kids would blindly follow in my footsteps if I just pointed them to Christ. Unfortunately, I forgot the first story of the Heavenly Father and his kids, Adam and Eve. I never thought raising them to know God would be a spiritual battle every single day. 

    Sometimes I wish I could go back to the Preschool years and repair what I missed when I had three children back to back. Later on, I wish I was more present when they came running home from school to show me their projects and their achievements. I wish I celebrated the small things more often. In those years I was chasing my own ambition and trying to balance a thousand plates like some Chinese acrobat from Taipei.

    No I didn't make it without dropping some major plates...

    And today I am feeling low. After spending hours last night in conversation with one of my almost grown, I couldn't help but feel the sting of my short comings.

"I'm Sorry," I heard myself saying.

     Now I'm sounding like my Father.  When I was a teenager after an argument I would slam my bedroom door. Without fail in a few minutes I would hear a knock and his voice gentler now, Dianne I'm sorry...

      I remember thinking if he didn't lose his cool he wouldn't have to apologize. 

     Now I realize how much love it took to make peace with an unreasonable teenage girl. Now I know that tough conversations with our kids are risky but worth it in the long run. I finally see how his muffled apology through my slammed bedroom door groomed my heart to find a man that cared about my thoughts and not just my appearance.

    As I looked at my own troubled child my heart hurt with I didn't mean to let you down!
 
       I don't like saying "I'm doing the best that I can" but I can't help feeling like I am raising these children in the dark sometimes. I hate the moments when I realize as much as I wanted to walk in wisdom I fell short. That is when faith comes in.

     My Sons and daughters will you trust me to try my hardest? Will you still love me when I mess up royally? Will you still forgive me on the 78th time for the same annoying habit? Will you continue to love me if I smother you? Even when I know I shouldn't. I am trying to let the sticks build up in the nest so these young almost adults will find their wings... but it is wrecking me.

     Parents, am I alone here? I look at my Facebook feed I see more of my peers turning gray in their season of raising teenagers. I see wrinkles gathering in the corners of their eyes and the furrows in their brow. I understand and I forgive my own face for reflecting the sleepless nights, the stress and heaviness this season has brought.

    Today I don't feel like I have even a kernel of wisdom to share.

    Even when I want to give up there is hope. Sure in this present moment there are some major road blocks, but somehow I still believe. That somehow is the Holy Spirit who lives in me. At first appearance I look like a meek little lamb, but on the inside there is something fierce like a lioness.

It is true, I am a Jesus Freak. I have been known to sing it out loud without apology, but somehow in my own home I can get really quiet. Some how in an effort to listen, to lead gently I can slip into a lambs skin...

         but just in case I forget who I am,

         who God says I am, who God says my offspring are 

         I am pausing right now to let out my roar.

     I love how my friend takes time to care for the little details in her daughter's life. She gently cares for her natural curls so they will bounce and shine. I am thankful that God has given the mother's heart the ability to look into all the details. It is our way, and when the times get tough I am also thankful for the firm foundation I come back to again and again. The rock that is higher than I.

    If you are discouraged today gather up your faith. Tend it carefully for it is secret to our strength as women. It is our strength in times of long suffering and on the road of parenting those times will come upon us all. So tend your heart, allow God to encourage you from the inside out.  

We've got this.