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.