Brenna, my 2 year old, has great curly hair, and the longer it gets the more wild it gets. Having had board straight hair my whole life I am currently experimenting with how to tame her locks and keep her from looking quite so much like a street urchin. This, however is not a post about Brenna’s hair (Because, how banal would that be?) It’s a post about beauty and vanity and mothers & daughters and my all to critical eye. Hang with me.

On Sunday morning in an attempt to fix Brenna’s hair for church I sprayed it down with water and put some mousse in it. After church as we were buckling the kids in their car seats I said, (partly to C.W. but mostly to myself) "I don’t like the way that mousse makes Brenna’s hair look." It was Brenna’s articulate response that started this whole line of thinking. Her brow furrowed up and said sounding quite concerned, "You no like my hair, Mama?"

Ouch. Don’t a mother’s words have such power in the lives of their daughters? As innocent as my critism was, to her ears it sounded like I was making a lifetime edict about her hair. If my words are to be powerful in Brenna’s life how can I use them for good?  How can I help her cultivate a heart that rests in 1 Peter 3:3&4. "Do not let your adorning be external – the braiding of hair, the wearing of gold, or putting on of clothing – but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God’s sight is very precious." Can I keep her from this part of the curse that seems to reside with women where we scrutinize every detail of our appearance and fixate on the smallest of flaws. I would love for her to just be comfortable in her own skin. I long for her to understand what is truly beautiful.

I suppose the heart issue here is probably the same all around. The question is, what is the heart issue? Is it idolatry in some form? Saying that our appearance is really the source of happiness and life rather thann Jesus? We can’t blame it completely on our culture of airbrushed models. There is still the propensity in our hearts to replace Jesus with anything that looks like it might satisfy regardless of culture. 

The very unsettling thought that keeps knocking around in my head is that I won’t be able to help Brenna until these issues are redeemed in my own heart. And that, is a whole other post.

Crawling! Yes, that is paper in his mouth. And for the record I only let me kids eat paper when it is for a really good cause. Like getting a decent picture. 

Surely that is not my daughter who is placing her cup so nicely above her plate. Hmmm, I suppose wonders never do cease.

We are enjoying the 11:30 to 12:30 hour around here these days. That’s the hour that the guy operating the jack hammer 10 feet from the dining room window breaks for lunch.

What a big girl. She can click and drag! 

"I can drink from my cup!" 

So sweet…. 

"Momma, stop it." 

Do you know about the honey roasted bbq sauce at Chil-fil-a? They often keep it behind the counter. Dip your fries in it, put in on your sandwich, with chicken nuggets. Mmmm mmm.

Your welcome.