Blue Jeans and Cotton Tees

I finally did it.

I cut my bangs.

Ever since Christmas I’ve been growing them out.

Why? I’m not sure.

I think it started when Dagmar had her hair cut and styled. As I sat there in the beauty parlor watching a professional turn my little girl’s pony tail into a young woman’s style – I started to feel a little dowdy. After all I’ve been wearing my hair the same way for years now.

Maybe it was the combination of country music and the intoxicating scent of hair product -  but I suddenly realized that I wanted a change. I would grow my bangs out and get a style.

The problem is that I have naturally curly hair. It doesn’t like change.  It does whatever it pleases on any given day. I’ve learned to subdue it by keeping it trimmed.

What was I thinking?

This life without trimming was fine at first – but slowly started to drive me crazy.

My subdued locks went wild with no restraint.

I actually bought <gulp> product to use. I gummed my bangs up with hair gel and sprayed them with hairspray – but as soon as I left the house the curls would bounce out every which way.

Sigh.

The family was supportive at first, although their eyebrows went up in amazement when the hair spray came out. Was their minimum maintenance momma actually using hair product?! What would be next? Heels?

When I would get discouraged the girls would say, “Just give it a little more time Mom”. Even my husband encouraged me to let it grow.

Until yesterday.

Yesterday was one of those incredibly awful bad hair days.

The humidity was high after two days of rain and no amount of hair product was going to subdue my errant curls.

I had corkscrews growing off my forehead in random patterns. I cringed every time I passed by a mirror.

I mentioned to my girls that I was ready to chop off those bangs – and in return I got wan little smiles that seemed to say, “Yes Mom – it’s time!”

This morning I casually mentioned to my husband that I thought it was time to cut my bangs. Even he agreed, saying, “Will you cut it yourself or go in to the salon?”

So I cut them.

It was such a relief.

I felt like myself again. It was comfortable. My curls and I were at peace.

I feel a little like Olivia Walton. In several episodes of the Walton’s she feels the need to make a change, to be or look different. Yet at the end of the hour-long show, no matter what she tried – soloist in the church choir or a new hairdo -  she realized that she rather liked things the way the were before.

She went searching for something that she already had.

Me too. It just took me four months.

But I found it – my very own style – the one that has worked for years.

It’s good to be back.

Meet Katie and Emie.

They are my adorable adopted nieces from the Ukraine.

Their adoption story begins back five years ago when my husband’s brother and his wife gave birth to their fourth child, a little girl who was born with Down’s syndrome.

Annie immediately captured all of our hearts and become a very special part of our family.

As her mom started to connect with other mom’s of Down’s children she discovered Reece’s Rainbow.

Reece’s Rainbow is an International Ministry for Orphans with Down’s Syndrome. In many countries of the world, including the Ukraine, children with Down’s are placed in orphanages until they get older – then they are placed in mental institutions.

Once there they are – they are unable to be adopted and live with adults who are mentally unstable. Their future is heart-wrenching.

Although they are not an adoption agency, Reece Rainbow is an advocate for the children. They work to identify at-risk children, raise funds for adoption, and find forever families for them.

Our little nieces came from an orphanage in the Ukraine and are such a joy! It is so rewarding to see those little girls blossom and grow in the midst of a loving family.

They’ve discovered birthdays and Christmas and ice cream.

They now have Grandpas and Grandmas and aunts and uncles and cousins.

They giggle and give hugs and talk a mile a minute.

Why am I telling you all this now? Because Reece’s Rainbow was featured in a story in last week’s People magazine – giving them some much needed national publicity.

As I read the article, I was reminded once again of those little ones still waiting for their forever families and I had to say something. I had to tell you Katie and Emie’s story – to put a real face on the children and the ministry.

These kids are real. I know. I met two of them.

I’ve held them, hugged them, and tickled them.

We’ve played dress-up and went roller skating and ate popcorn and watched movies.

I’ve fallen head over heels in love with them.

My heart is broken over the ones left behind.

James 1:27 “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress…”

If you would like to read more about Katie and Emie’s adoption journey, check out Hidden Treasures.

I rediscovered the book Mrs. Miniver recently at the library. It’s been fun to read it again and savor some of my favorite parts.

I especially love this section:

“As she walked past a cab rank in Pont Street, Mrs. Miniver heard a very fat taxi-driver with a bottle nose saying to a very old taxi-driver with a rheumy eye: ‘They say it’s all a question of your subconscious mind.’

Enchanted she put the incident in her pocket for Clem. It jostled, a bright pebble, against several others: she had had a rewarding day. And Clem, who had driven down to the country to lunch with a client, would be pretty certain to come back with some good stuff, too.

This was the cream of marriage, this nightly turning out of the day’s pocketful of memories, this deft habitual sharing of two eyes, two pairs of ears. It gave you, in a sense, almost a double life: though never, on the other hand, quite a single one.”

Mrs. Miniver by Jan Struther

I love the idea of collecting ideas, events, attitudes, thoughts, etc… like pebbles in my pocket. Then when my husband comes home, I slowly empty them one by one and share them.

It really is the cream of marriage.

What pebbles did you collect today?

I’ve been studying love this month.

Not the romantic love that we celebrate on Valentine’s Day – but the love that God has for us.

It’s that kind of love that He wants us to have for others.

I was humbled by these verses in Ephesians -

“Watch what God does, and then you do it, like children who learn proper behavior from their parents.

Mostly what God does is love you. Keep company with him and learn a life of love. Observe how Christ loved us. His love was not cautious but extravagant. He didn’t love in order to get something from us but to give everything of himself to us. Love like that.”

Ephesians 5:1-2 (The Message)

Wow.

Extravagant love.

The word extravagant makes me think “over-the-top”. I think of rich people throwing their money away as if they had an endless source.

While I may not be rich in money – I am rich in love! God has promised me an unlimited supply of it. There’s no way I could ever give it all away!

Webster’s dictionary defines extravagant as “exceeding the limits of reason or necessity” and “lacking in moderation balance and restraint.”

That’s how Christ loved us! He didn’t love us because of anything we could do for Him.

He loved us all the way to the cross.

It was a huge “over-the-top” kind of love that is beyond what we can reason or understand. It blows away our feeble ideas and selfish motives.

Do I love like that?

I thought of the group of believers in Haiti who, having heard about the earthquake but being far enough away from it to not be affected, gathered up whatever food and supplies they had and headed out to give aid.

These people are destitute themselves. They did not give out of their abundance – but out of their poverty.

That’s extravagant love.

Do I love like that?

Unselfishly.

Freely.

Beyond what is necessary?

Beyond the limits of reason?

Think of the difference we would make in our world if we loved like our Savior does – extravagantly!

Photo by aussiegal

My husband calls everyday over his lunch hour.

Everyday he asks the same question, “How was your morning?”

Today I answered that everything was fine. No miracles, no disasters. It’s been a good morning.

Then it struck me what a blessing that is – a day full of the simple pleasures of life.

Sunshine.

A child who finally understood a math concept.

The smell of fresh bread.

The sound of my children’s laughter.

A few stolen moments of quiet with a good book and a cup of tea.

The feeling of completeness when my husband walks in the door after work.

The hum of the furnace.

An email from a friend.

The sweet indulgence of a Dove chocolate bar.

Cuddling with the kids as we watch TV together.

I think L. M. Montgomery said it well-

“After all,” Anne had said to Marilla once, “I believe the nicest and sweetest days are not those on which anything splendid or wonderful or exciting happens but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls slipping off a string.”  Anne of Avonlea

Simple little pleasures – like pearls slipping off a string.

What a blessing!

Photo by Flickr user tanakawho.