It’s a love-hate hate-love kind of relationship with these borrowed locks. As I innocently go about my day, small nests take shape and then I spend too much time brushing it all out–only to have the chaos return within minutes.
And then comes along Blonde Boy who asks–no, pleads— to brush my hair. The first time he asked caught me by surprise and my yes came out slowly and with great curiosity. I was both intrigued and slightly doubtful that this boy, who claims no sisters, would understand the necessary care of brushing long tresses.
I hand him the brush.
His concentration on the task is remarkable as is the gentle and methodical way he tends to every tangle. A strange calm washes over me knowing this boy of mine is making all things right.
And then I see how even in the crazy, messy, unruly places of my heart, it is God who untangles my mess with great care and grace.
Even though… …even though my heart is bound to get unruly once again.
As His grace abounds.
Grace to you on your beautiful and messy journey,