I never thought about Hair as my arch-nemesis, but it is a brilliant concept. hahaha I loved it!

Life .|. God .|. Music

HAIR (Woman’s arch-nemesis) & her side kick PRODUCT:

I am the average woman. My hair isn’t “long” [checking the [] THICK option tho!]. I don’t have those Ananda Lewis curls [though I loved the
way she wore her hair! Such a beautiful person/woman]. I, like most women, have gone through great lengths for the look I want.

We watch, talk, purchase, tease, tame, train, torture, snap, pet, coat, swell, clean, cleanse and pre-poo our hair. The hair industry and the AISLES of hair care products show how dear to us, our hair is. Your hair tells a lot about you, even if you don’t want it to. I thought about this, as I went through my own set up to wash my hair “salon style” in my kitchen sink. Oh that was interesting.

As an engineer, I started thinking about the benefits of all these things that I do to…

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Unrecognizable Tears

Why do I shutter at the tears of another as though I’ve not seen any of my own? Why does it strike me as odd when they cry and the depths of their soul spills onto their cheeks? Why does my tongue remember the saltiness of those that have run down my face – before I recall those are not my tears at all they are the calculated failures I failed to erase. Your tears my sister, your tears my brother are not so unrecognizable to me. I too cried when he stopped calling, moaned when she whispered to others, and walked in circles hesitating confrontation. Yes your tears I can Identify, even though your eyes are the ones that leak, I have a funny feeling I can relate to that which makes your knees buckle and your laughter weak.

Tears are unrecognizable to the happy soul who just got the promotion, but not to the one who recently lost a job. Unrecognizable are the tears of a struggling mother with a paycheck too small to purchase new shoes while the bullies at school laugh at her babies and teachers call her a lazy fool. Although her struggle is foreign to many we’ve all taken a ride on despair’s bus. The tears of a music teacher are unrecognizable to the football coach with a thriving team. Did she pour her heart in to a program that was sure to lose? No!

So what do we do when we realize the shoes of those around us are too big? I tell you what we do when their tears are their food and no one seems to care, we will stand on the shoulders of another, lifting us above the crowd. When we’ve reached our climactic peak we reach down and pull them higher. If we choose to look beyond the constant flow of water falling from their face, we will recognize that within their tears all the pain washed away. The deeper we look the clearer we see that the tears we’ve seen is a clear picture of John 3:16.

Love at the Hem

Let My Words Please

Talking Heads

Many times our words are not seasoned with salt or peppered with grace. We yell at those we don’t mean to, and we are short with those who are the most patient toward us. Why is this? Often times it is because life has a way of pushing us to our limits. Not to mention that the people who are used as our “limit pushers” tend to do so from a distance. Therefore, the ones closest to us are the ones who experience the wrath saved up for the LPs. Well not me, not any more!

Recently, I caught myself spraying stink bombs with my words, and my stares at people who had absolutely nothing to do with my limits. So I decided that I would make a conscious decision to choose my words carefully, to be purposely loving to those around me, and to breathe before responding. It is almost as if I have a movie director in my head with a “take marker” telling me, STOP – now take 2 scene 4, just before I lose my mind on some undeserving soul.  

This blog spot is titled fighting4us, because everyday I have to intentionally decide to fight for the relationships I love. The main relationship I have to contend for regularly is my marriage. Many times my unloving, unpleasing words are directed toward my spouse who at times plays the role of “limit pusher”. But my verbal interaction with him could add wood to the fire or estinguish it altogether. 

You see, in my eyes it is my responsibility as a Christian first and a wife second to find grace for the moment; pausing and carefully re-evaluating my thoughts and motives for what I am about to say befor the words recklously leave my lips. When I speak I must remember that the words I say can be forgiven but they may never be forgotten.

Therefore, my prayer has become, “Lord, let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight…because you are my strength [rock] and my redeemer” Psalm 19:14. God saves me from myself daily! He rescues my words before they hit the open air, and I damage relationships forever! So I say, let my words please.