For Real Hair Dilemmas

I saw a fabulous and rather brave Latino lady in Target the other day.  There I was, in way less than fabulous yoga pants and a long shirt with my slightly disheveled, short hair crammed under a baseball cap. (I did have earrings on though…you’ll rarely find me without them.  I don’t know why but they make me feel more put together than I really am.)  Anyway, I had just gotten my basket and was about to set out on my mission when she came gliding through the doors.  She was dressed to a T, perfect makeup and jewelry, and her hair was shiny, long, and flowing.  This is the point where you look at yourself thinking, “good heavens”, and pull your baseball cap down a little closer around your face and hope you don’t run into anyone you know.  She was that fabulous. The reason I say she was also brave is because the top half of her shiny long hair was her natural dark brown and the other half was blonde.  She was obviously letting the blonde color job grow out but refused to cut her hair to speed the process.  She was unapologetic about it, too.  I’m sure many people saw her and thought she needed to do something about her hair.  That wasn’t my take on it, though.  I thought it was bold and gutsy.  If that had been me, my hair would have been twisted up in a bun, the bun under a cap, and my clothes may have been chosen to match the cap. 

I had a similar hair revelation with one of the 15 year olds this morning about his hair. (Yes, I have two 15 year olds now.  Prayers always appreciated.)  He likes the soccer cuts that are shorter on the sides and back and longer on the top.  They are pretty fun looks and hair is one of the areas I rarely choose to engage in battle with my kids.  With two 15 year olds, there are plenty of other hostile territories I must conquer.  Anyway….lately he could care less about the hair and just leaves it all disheveled.  So, I told him if he wasn’t going to take the time to fix it, he was going to have to get it cut off.  For someone who has been so particular about his haircuts, he laughed it off and wasn’t worried at all about how his hair looked to others anymore.  Granted, his hair didn’t look fabulous like the unapologetic Latino lady but, part of me was happy to see a bit of an unconcerned, unapologetic attitude regarding his appearance.  Now, I’d rather he not leave the house looking like he just rolled out of bed but, there definitely was a bright side to the morning dilemma over the hair. 

That got me to thinking.  Dangerous, I know.

 Maybe I should have bragged on him a little more for not being obsessed with his hair (for once), and for being unapologetic about being himself.  Really, that’s what I want for all of my kids….to be comfortable enough in their own skin to strut through school, or Target, on days they aren’t feeling or looking 100% and not worry about what others may be thinking of them.  Of all the skills they can acquire or I can help them achieve, nothing will serve them better in this life than being comfortable being who they were created to be, inside and out…..and unapologetic for it. 

The thing is, as a Christian mama who desperately wants her children to follow Christ closely, I realize they are inevitably going to experience a certain level of ridicule and likely even persecution.  Our world that is so flawed and cruel anyway to those who are “different”, is especially and increasingly hostile to those who identify with Christ.  So, if I want them to live deep, rich lives and fulfill their purpose this side of eternity, they have to be able to see themselves beyond the surface and recognize the depth in others beyond two-toned hair, perfect hair, or no hair.  I want them to walk just as boldly and unapologetically as the fabulous Latino lady with the two toned hair.  So, even though it pained me that he was going to school looking like he’d just rolled out of bed, I guess on some level, I was glad he was cool with it.  (He’s still going to have to cut it, though.)

I think I can speak for most Christian mamas when I say that we don’t want them to follow Christ just so they’ll have the easiest life possible, be “good little boys and girls”, make good decisions, stay off drugs, and be wildly successful, well adjusted adults.  Much of the time, that can be achieved by being raised with consistent, healthy boundaries.  Plus, it’s a common misconception that Christians don’t make bad decisions or sin and it’s also a common misconception that the Christian life is easier because, “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle.” So inaccurate.  He FREQUENTLY gives us more than we can handle.  Otherwise, we tend to walk around like we don’t need Him.  I’ll also dispel that sin myth right now and say that whether you’re 15, 38, or 88, you’re not going to get it right 100% of the time.  Sometimes we’re doing well to successfully navigate 10% of our day.  The only thing we have going for us is that we live under the guidance and conviction of the Holy Spirit.  (He just won’t leave us alone!) 

So, no... if I want them to live the safest, most pain free lives possible, being Christian is not necessarily the way to go.  After all, Jesus himself warns us in Matthew 10:16-17 that He sends us out as sheep among wolves and in John 15:18-19 that if the world hates us, know that it hated Him first…..and if we want the world to love us, we have to conform to their standards.  Once a mama has the mental image of sheep among wolves, raising “good boys and girls” just doesn’t seem to be enough pay off to warrant the risk.  So, if the safe, easy life was my ultimate goal for them, I’d simply teach them the importance of hard work, success, being nice, and how best to fit in.  

We aren’t MADE to fit in with the rest of the world, though.  For teenagers in America, it can be a constant and brutal back and forth battle.  Not that it magically goes away for adults.  We’ve just hopefully done more living and learning and God has given us more of His perspective on those things.  So, the question I have to ask myself is, “In what ways, both obvious and subtle, have I been making sure they simply fit in or have it easy?” and “Do those things work against my ultimate goal for them to be comfortable in their own skin as they embrace Christ and His path for their lives?”

I know, I know, it’s a lot to glean from hair dilemmas.  I’m sorry.  These are just the inner workings of an introverted mind.  I shouldn’t sound so apologetic, I guess….it is how God made me.  We are all wired differently, that’s for sure.  Even my 15 year old identical twins.  That’s a whole other blog post I’ve been pondering on, though.  Maybe next week.  After all, amongst all the other things we already have going on this week…..now I have to squeeze in haircuts!!:) 

Time to Unpack

Hey y'all!! This post today was originally a monologue submission for an upcoming variety type show called Expressing Motherhood. So, if it seems as though I'm just addressing California peeps, that's why. I'm sure many, many more mommies around the country have been in my shoes!!:) 

Time to Unpack

“You can't raise kids in California! You just can't. It’s Hollywood, fast living, dangerous, and you can't even mention Jesus out there!”  Growing up in the South, that was kind of my overall perception of life in California.  I guess what we’d seen in the movies and on the news just seem so wild, or risqué, to say the least.  It certainly didn’t seem like the best place to raise a family, especially when compared to the way I was raised.  I mean, take my mother and grandmother for example: Instead of seething out a four letter word when they stubbed a toe or realized they just totally messed up a recipe we would hear, "ohhh ssssssugar".  I mean, it wasn’t exactly Leave it to Beaver but, it was a relatively wholesome upbringing. 

My motherhood journey started off with a bang when our twin boys were born. You know, hospitals will let almost any woman deliver and a day or two later just leave with 2 babies!!  As we pulled out of there that snowy February day with 2 baby boys in the backseat looking all alike and unconcerned, all we could do was laugh. Craziness I tell ya!

No one told me, though. No one ever told me about the baggage that I would be bringing home with me that day.  The sheer love and joy, the fear, the guilt, the exhaustion, and the angst over Every. Single. Decision, kind of baggage.   I didn't have a place for all of that stuff!

I never really knew what it meant to pour into someone's life quite like this where every decision felt as though it could scar them for life.  Nearly every waking minute went into teaching them safety, manners, sharing, fairness, and Jesus, among other things.  I can't tell you how many afternoons I spent in the backyard throwing a tennis ball up in the air so they could learn to catch pop flies with their gloves instead of their faces. I can't tell you how many times I totally blew it with them, either.  Then, after almost 9 years, we started afresh when our baby girl, Jude, came along. 

She came home with just as much baggage and even though I was more familiar with it, I still didn't know quite where to put it.  This girl, you can’t imagine the doting she received. We had to have her birthday parties in the fellowship hall of the church because so many people loved our little spitfire. I taught her please and thank you, just as I had the boys. (Only, for the longest time she said, "nank you".) I poured into her little life just as much and weighed every decision just as heavily.  So, when a job presented the possibility of us moving our 3 kids to the LA area, you can imagine the contortionist type knots that formed in my stomach: "But, we are so rooted here." "But, but....it’s California! We can't raise our kids there!!”

Well, the short version is that we both realized that California was where we were supposed to be.  So, we loaded up our kids, our dogs, and all of our baggage and headed west.  While I was on board and “prayed up” about it, I had a few, "what have we done?" moments, too.    

We moved in time for the boys to start 6^th grade and it was a few months before Jude's 3rd birthday. Her birthday was one of those “moments”. My parents came out to celebrate.  My dad and I went out to pick up the cake and when we got back, instead of being all excited about her party, Jude was in tears!! I asked what was wrong and she couldn’t explain it but had told my mom, "My friends aren't going to see me for my birthday." It had hit her…. and those tears hit me like a ton of bricks.

I scooped her up and talked to her for a while as she sobbed.  In a little while she switched gears and said, “But, you didn’t get me a cake.”  I said, “Aww, of course I did, baby!”  I pulled the cake out of the freezer and knelt down beside her.  Her tears stopped when I said, “See, this is your ice cream cake!” She threw her arms around my neck and said, “Oh, NANK YOU, Mommy!!” She just kept hugging and kissing me as we admired her fairy themed ice cream cake.  Words simply can’t describe the mixture of emotions I felt in those moments.

She had so much fun the rest of the night.  Her heartbreak had been painful to see, though. So, the next day, in concerned grandmother fashion, my mom suggested that it might be best for the kids if we considered moving home. In that moment, I didn't even have to think, the words just came out. I told her that if we were where we were supposed to be, then as the children God gave us, they were where they were supposed to be, too.  If I was supposed to trust God with our future, I should trust Him with theirs, too. Right then, without realizing it, I had begun unpacking all that baggage that I'd been wagging around with me for 11+ years. 

It goes without saying that we always miss our Tennessee peeps.   However, nearly four years later, we love it here.  California is home to us now.  Peter and Preston are in 9th grade, on the high school baseball team, and have a great group of friends.  Jude is totally rocking kindergarten.  I’ve been blessed with an incredibly awesome network of moms here and we’re just doing this thing together. 

When I take into account the major adjustments the kids had to make with this move, I see that God was working on all of our behalves and has done above and beyond all I could’ve asked or imagined, just as my favorite verse, Ephesians 3:20, always told me He was able to do. Whatever decisions I make as their mom in any given situation, whether I handle it like a pro or totally blow it, not even I can screw them up beyond the grace of God.   Our family itself has not only grown closer together here, we’ve grown spiritually. Here… In California….where you can, in fact, talk about Jesus! I’m continuing to unpack my proverbial bags in California. As I do, I can’t help but wonder, “What if we’d said “no” to California and missed all of this? And, What is He doing next?” 

To all of you fellow moms and lovely, California peeps, I just want to thank you. Or, as Jude use to say, “Nank you”, so very much.