Tuesday, May 31, 2011

knots and combs

Sometimes I feel like a little girl who has just woken up into a bright morning after a long fitful sleep. Her mom asks her to brush her hair before coming down to breakfast. Happily, she trots off to find her hair brush. She always was one of those eager-to-please types. Starting at the top of her head, she works her way down to the tips of her hair. Her gentle pulls through her long dark hair eventually become short tugs on bits of the knotted mess she finds at the bottom.

She tries again. Back up to the top and brushing down slowly, until she hits the tangled spot again. This time around, she begins in the middle and resolves to quickly brush through the knot.

No better success.

With a little sigh and determination written on her face, the little girl finds the tangle and works it carefully with her fingers. The world around her, the sunshine pouring through the window, the messy sheets on her bed... everything becomes a backdrop to the girl's trivial, all-encompassing task.

With a little more time and a little more patience, she knows it will come out.

A little more time and a little less patience... and the tangle is still there. Her trusty brush, her wide-tooth comb, her favorite green one with her name on it, and even her small fingers have all been found incapable of working out the knot she knows she must smooth.

"Oh, forget it!" She plops down onto her bed. "I can't do it. And I tried too. I mean, really tried." Her little minds goes around in miniature circles. "I can't do this! I shouldn't have to do this! I want breakfast! Why do I have to brush my hair to eat breakfast? Why isn't anybody here to help me? How can Mom expect me to be able to brush my hair when it's impossible? I hate my hair."

Soon, she feels tears running down her cheeks. Tears of frustration turn to tears of despair.

The door creaks open lightly. It's Mom. "Darling, why didn't you ask me for help?" Mom seats the little girl on her lap and hugs her tightly. With a complete view of the knot, the girl's mother has no trouble untangling the twisted mess. "Dear heart, some things are bigger than you can see, but you never have to try to solve them on your own. Don't ever be afraid to ask, okay? I will always be here for you."

God, will you comb through my knots and untangle my foolish heart?
{and hope does not put us to shame}