Beauty

   Life is so daily. By daily, I mean unrelenting, never stopping, continual, repeating. There have

been many times when I think the world should stop, freeze and let me off.  Then I have to rewire my thinking yet again.  His mercies are new every morning and I definitely need new mercies.  He is faithful to finish the work He has begun in me, His yoke is easy and His burden is light. Okay then, I can live like that.  It seems so easy to carry my burdens and to take on the world and forget the love that Jesus shows me every second of every minute of every day.  I am getting over a cold and it has reminded me how I take my health for granted - even demanding to feel better.  I am ashamed.

   Speaking of shame, I am sad for 2 beautiful women I know and ashamed of myself for my shallow complaints.  I am not crazy about my hair. It is fine, straight and quickly going gray.  I have gone blonde in an effort to fight the gray and that helps but I still don't like my hair.  However, I have hair. The 2 lovely ladies I am thinking of have had to face the indignity of losing all their hair, not by choice as when you shave your head of your own volition, but because of the ravages of disease.  Sometimes, they can pretend that all is well, that they are past the illness and moving on. There is a sense of relief in that, some measure of control and I get that, I do it all the time. But then...then they pass a mirror and have to face the truth, yet again. "I had cancer and I will never be the same or even 

look the same again."  One friend's hair has come back and it is beautiful. She is enjoying have a head of hair again, except, it is silvery gray.  She had beautiful long brown hair, matching her kids and now it is silver and she doesn't look like herself. It is hard.

   My other dear one has had the tragedy of losing her hair for the third time, after it all grew back because of the strength of the treatments she had. That has been incredibly sad. She is facing bald spots and is now keeping her head shaved to try to encourage even growth as we hope and pray that 

the spots will fill in.  Daily, she is reminded of what has happened to her and that there is no control to be gained over this hurt.  I grieve for her and am ashamed of complaining as I run my fingers thru my hair, reminded yet again of her pain.

   Hair is an important part of what a woman sees as beauty.  We cut it, colour it and curl it. We notice others styles, admire and envy.  It is shocking and noticeable when we see a woman with a bald head. Other cultures consider it deeply shameful and so, my friends face shaming glares and wagging fingers.  Hurt upon hurt.  How to help?  I honestly don't know.
   I hope and pray that God will meet them there in their hearts and speak comfort. I see both of them as so beautiful and I am glad they are still here. Still living. Beauty is so fleeting. Our culture is deeply obsessed which doesn't help and yet, even the best of us ages and dies. The Bible has much to say about priorities, about love and grace and Heaven. Whether it is hair or wrinkles or weight
it pales in comparison to our hearts and our inner life. Lord, help me be beautiful to you. A gentle and quiet spirit. Please bless my friends with grace and comfort. You are so good.

Dreading the Spotlight of Mother's Day

   Mother's Day is coming. I am dreading it but not for the usual reasons. I have no problem
celebrating the mothers in my life and I am glad to honour them. I have cards ready, times
to see them all set up. This feels right and proper. I like that part of Mother's Day.
   I don't like being the mother on Mother's Day. I dislike feeling like I have to smile and be grateful
or even that I have done something worthwhile. I know myself, I know my failures and I remember the hard memories my kids will always have to deal with. I hate that. I am aware too, of rifts between my children, hard feelings and hurts. I know that my husband is suffering in many ways, ways that I am helpless to fix.  I know that for my own daughters, Mother's Day is painful. For one, it is the hurt of missing a baby who should be here and for the deep longing of the "not yet". For another, it is the hurt that biological motherhood has been taken away as a choice for her life - not through her own choice but because of cancer and all it engenders.  Hurts that are deep and real and I ache for them. I also don't want a false day - I hate that.
   Last year was probably the best Mother's Day I have ever had and all because it was not planned. The kids did plan a DQ cake that had Baymax on it and that made me laugh. We were in process of sellling our home and a showing came up and so we went to our favourite Starbucks and sat on the patio, ordered pizza to go with our SB and enjoyed. Everyone was there, there was no pressure and it was fun. I felt no pressure to perform at all.
   I am aware that celebrations are important and I have no problem celebrating others. I like for my kids to celebrate their dad and birthdays matter in our family. Holidays are special although we have worked to not be slaves to them or to certain days. Being a family that has dealt with shift work has helped us to shift the focus from a certain date, like the 25th of December, to being all together on a day close by to enjoy and celebrate.
   I struggle with joy. I have clear memories of looking forward to my birthday and being deeply disappointed. Almost any time that I expect something special, it disappoints and while I know that part of that is my melancholic makeup, I think it can be a good reminder too.  Heaven is not yet. Earth is still fallen and life is relentless.  Time carries on, people change, I fail and God is good.
How awesome to know that and relax. To admit that I really dislike breakfast foods and especially if I have to eat it in bed. I am aware that I have a place in my heart that needs healing. When my children were little, I understood the importance of them learning to honour and so, Mother's Day made more sense. Now they are grown and I feel that I would rather just move on and not fuss about a day that is uncomfortable and that is actually hurtful to women around me.
   I wonder how Jesus will walk with me in this?