This Tiny Tomboy

This Tiny Tomboy

I brush and brush. We've tried every barrette known to man.  I pull and pull.  I even spray and spray.  This child's hair will never ever stay in place.

I send her off looking neat as a pin I pick her up and it looks like she spent most of her day, on her head, in a spin.

She got in trouble in school for playing too rough with a boy.  "I told him not to kiss me mom".  She twisted his arm and made him cry at the end of this story."

She's a tomboy - that's how she acts in many ways.  She would rather wrestle her daddy or run as fast as her neighbor (she knows she'll beat him some day).

I was this way.  Why do I feel left out?  I never could have raised a daughter who played with dolls, didn't get dirty, was tender and quiet and didn't shout.

She plays with trucks, loves to paint, has her own set of tools.  She has a heart of gold but to wait for her to be prim and proper, I would be a fool.

God spoke ever so clearly to me.  "She's being exactly who I created .  She's supposed to be different.  Now, please teach her to love me and just let her be."

Who knows, one day I may see her not running down the church hall.  I may see her even quietly, sweetly playing, hair all neat, maybe even snuggling a doll.

But I know she will remain looking a little frazzled at times.  But to hold her up to someone else's standards, not God's, would make me blind.

I am curious to see who this tiny tomboy will turn out to be.  After God's working, mom and dad's teaching.  Prim and neat really isn't what I want to see.

Love for her Lord.  "Dear Jesus I love you so much", I hear.  Her heart needs to love and honor Him.  With that in place, I have nothing else to fear.