She noticed my hair. “What did you do different?”
“Straightened it?” I was unsure what she meant.
“It looks great.” I felt loved and slightly self-conscious at the same time.
It was the same emotion surging through my second grade body when I fell two stories from a playset on the school playground. Kids gathered round me and begged to know if I was O.K. I stood up, eyes filling with tears. Then I ran.
They told the teacher because they didn’t understand my embarrassment.
To be noticed is to be seen in our beauty and hurts. Someone stops to catch the details of our hair and our scraped up hands.
I want God to notice me, (and he does). But some days I don’t. He’s not fussy. I know this. He’s more like the wind blowing my hair back as I sit here and write at this picnic table. He blows the tresses back from my face so he can kiss me.
This post is Day 19 of 31 Days of Five Minute Free Writes 2016.