Surrender

My dad has always laughed about my relationship with my hair. When I was a teen he said I never got a haircut I was completely happy with. He was right, though it wasn’t the stylist’s fault. I was mad at my hair.

My thick and wavy hair has a mind of its own. Since giving birth to my children (gotta blame someone), it can also be frizzy.

I want to believe I have outgrown the hair frustration; but some time ago I experienced a haircut that confirmed it once again. I had given very specific instructions, but as the stylist became deeply involved in a discussion with the other stylists, she began cutting wildly. Their discussion escalated into a debate which quickly became an argument. The louder they became, the further my hair flew. There I sat, bound in a type of straightjacket, at the mercy of an angry woman with a sharp object. At that moment I realized I had given the control to her.

This is a lot like my life. I want to control everything around me, yet things rarely work out as planned. Hand me my white flag. It’s time to surrender again. I can’t even control my hair. How could I possibly orchestrate my entire life?

“For we are God’s [own] handiwork (His workmanship), recreated in Christ Jesus, [born anew] that we may do those good works which God predestined (planned beforehand) for us [taking paths which He prepared ahead of time], that we should walk in them [living the good life which He prearranged and made ready for us to live].”

Ephesians 2:10 (Amplified)

Oh the patience of God. He watches us; ever ready to help get us back on track when needed.

His plan is better than mine and I choose to surrender to it.