Some days I look in the mirror, and I'm not sure who I'm looking at.
I just did it tonight. I thought, "Who is that? And where did she get all that curly hair?" Yes. My hair is turning curly. Like I have spirals. Big ones. That disappear easily if messed with. I'm actually afraid to touch them when I find them. Afraid they're so fragile I'll ruin them and never find them again.
I read this Beverly Cleary "Ramona" book when I was young about a girl who goes to kindergarten. She lives in awe of this little girl with perfect ringlets. One day she can't restrain herself anymore, and she boings one. The little girl screams, and Ramona gets in trouble for pulling hair. The point is, I always wanted boingy hair. And now, apparently, through absolutely no doing of my own, I have the fragile beginnings of boingy hair. And am I utterly amazed.
And I spend time wondering,
"Am I a person who wants new furniture and a pretty new house? Or a person who wants to give all my money away to African mommies with starving kids and no shoes?" Apparently I'm perfectly capable of wanting to spend all my money on myself to make my surroundings beautiful and convenient and wanting to give it all away to meet the needs of others at the same time.
And...
"Am I a country person or a city person?"
I love the quiet out here. The sky full of stars, singing so clearly that my God is HUGE times infinity and loves beauty. I love the sun sets and the birds singing and the chance for absolute silence (when the irrigation wells aren't running). I love that I never worry about traffic or strange neighbors or get letters in the mail asking us to refrain from parking our junky pickup on the street where it is decreasing property values with it's ugliness.
But I miss the convenience of being 30 seconds from the library, the bank, the pool, the grocery store, and church. I miss walking to Kayla's house just to hang out for the morning. I miss the kids running next door to play with friends for a while after school. It's hard to do extras like piano lessons and dance lessons and swim lessons and basketball/football/cross country camp. It's really easy to get sick of driving out here.
See why I'm confused? =)
I just keep reminding myself to accept the grace that Jesus freely lavishes on me every day. And to walk in it. And I've learned to speak truth to myself about who Jesus thinks I am. Curly haired, selfish or generous, country girl or city girl - just me.
Zeph. 3:17 "The LORD your God is in your midst, a victorious warrior. He will exult over you with joy, He will be quiet in His love, He will rejoice over you with shouts of joy."
I just did it tonight. I thought, "Who is that? And where did she get all that curly hair?" Yes. My hair is turning curly. Like I have spirals. Big ones. That disappear easily if messed with. I'm actually afraid to touch them when I find them. Afraid they're so fragile I'll ruin them and never find them again.
I read this Beverly Cleary "Ramona" book when I was young about a girl who goes to kindergarten. She lives in awe of this little girl with perfect ringlets. One day she can't restrain herself anymore, and she boings one. The little girl screams, and Ramona gets in trouble for pulling hair. The point is, I always wanted boingy hair. And now, apparently, through absolutely no doing of my own, I have the fragile beginnings of boingy hair. And am I utterly amazed.
And I spend time wondering,
"Am I a person who wants new furniture and a pretty new house? Or a person who wants to give all my money away to African mommies with starving kids and no shoes?" Apparently I'm perfectly capable of wanting to spend all my money on myself to make my surroundings beautiful and convenient and wanting to give it all away to meet the needs of others at the same time.
And...
"Am I a country person or a city person?"
I love the quiet out here. The sky full of stars, singing so clearly that my God is HUGE times infinity and loves beauty. I love the sun sets and the birds singing and the chance for absolute silence (when the irrigation wells aren't running). I love that I never worry about traffic or strange neighbors or get letters in the mail asking us to refrain from parking our junky pickup on the street where it is decreasing property values with it's ugliness.
But I miss the convenience of being 30 seconds from the library, the bank, the pool, the grocery store, and church. I miss walking to Kayla's house just to hang out for the morning. I miss the kids running next door to play with friends for a while after school. It's hard to do extras like piano lessons and dance lessons and swim lessons and basketball/football/cross country camp. It's really easy to get sick of driving out here.
See why I'm confused? =)
I just keep reminding myself to accept the grace that Jesus freely lavishes on me every day. And to walk in it. And I've learned to speak truth to myself about who Jesus thinks I am. Curly haired, selfish or generous, country girl or city girl - just me.
Zeph. 3:17 "The LORD your God is in your midst, a victorious warrior. He will exult over you with joy, He will be quiet in His love, He will rejoice over you with shouts of joy."
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