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The questions I have and a few truths I've learned along the way...
I carried these words with me through the next years as I struggled to wrestle my grief and disillusionment and pain and joy and hope to the ground and redeem something new and beautiful with it all. I carried them in my heart and revisited them when I needed the reminder that this renewal may look like telephone poles but I don’t have to care. That for some things, for this thing, there was no wrong season. And like Mary Oliver, it was what I dreamed of for me.
The last few years have been a tearing down of sorts for me. A clearing of the lot, if you will. I’ve come to realize in the last few years that my faith was built on a faulty foundation. It wasn’t all bad, and it was built with good intentions, but faulty nonetheless. I built my faith house on that bad foundation and then kept living in it. Over the years I pursued spiritual growth and transformation, and I did find those things. But that growth was like renovating a kitchen in a house built on a bad foundation. Things looked and felt a lot better, but it didn’t really stop my house from crumbling when the storm came.
But sometimes I wonder if it’s even more that that. Maybe it’s a reminder of God’s love and care for me still. A physical representation that God cares about me enough to send me a sign, an answer to the rawest and most vulnerable questions my heart holds. These two babies and their unique hair color came during a season of my life when I so desperately needed to know that God was good. Could God’s answer to the biggest questions and fears I have about Him lie in the hair atop my daughters’ heads? An answer I desperately need to hear? Maybe it is a God thing…
