My Little Pink Bow

When Rhianna was a little girl, I loved braiding her hair and tying little pink bows at the end.  I would brush out her blond, curly locks and wrap and twist each little strand, piece by piece until all was in order and could be tied with a tiny piece of pink, purple or yellow ribbon.  After I was all done with her hair, Rhianna would run to the mirror to look---twisting and turning in every direction, trying to catch a glimpse of her braids.  After a while she would become so frustrated because no matter what way she turned, she just couldn't see what I had done.  I would have to bring my hand mirror, turn her back to herself, and show her the reflection, proving my work.  Once she stood still long enough, she glimpsed those braids with their little pink bows and was happy.  Mommy had done a good job and she could skip out into the sun knowing all was well. 

Sometimes, I am like just like my little Rhianna.  I can feel God tugging and pulling at me, wrapping and twining each piece of my life as He fashions something in me that I have no power to do myself.  Sometimes, I feel a snag.  A tug that I feel is too hard and I cry out with pain.  I complain, "God!  This hurts too much!"  God, being the good parent that He is, acknowledges the process is painful, but continues His work. Strand by little strand. 

There were times in the braiding process that Rhianna would get what I called the "wigglies".  No matter what I was trying to do back there, she would bob around, wiggle on her seat, lean her head over too far or twist around to try and talk to me.  After a case of the "wigglies", the beautiful braid I was attempting to create would turn out badly.  It would be crooked, messy or just plain wrong. There would be nothing left to do but pull out the braid and start all over---this time admonishing Rhianna that she must sit still.  See all the time that we wasted having to start all over?

So it is with me and God.   I get uncomfortable; tired of waiting and attempting once again to take control of my life.  God, being the loving parent that He is, just keeps leading me back to where He wants me to be and tells me "Be still."

I confess I get impatient.  I keep running to the mirror, trying to catch a glimpse of what is going on "behind the scenes". I am so disappointed with myself when I can't see anything. I keep twisting and turning, trying to catch a glimpse of something that will tell me He is done with His work. He has completed this painful, agonizing process and it's all wrapped up with a little pink bow. I am learning that no matter how many times I run to the mirror, I will never catch sight of anything other than myself. God isn't done with me yet. He hasn't held up the mirror to show me what He has done.

I am a work in progress. I am being fashioned by the hand of a loving Father who wants only the best for me.  The tugs and pulling hurt, but no more so than I can bear.  I am looking forward to one day seeing that little bow at the end of God's work and skipping out into the sunshine knowing my Father has done a good job and all is right in my world.