Some women are dripping with diamonds, Some women are dripping with pearls

Lucky me! Lucky me!  Look at what I’m dripping with: Little girls!

I have three girls.  And when I say girls, I mean GIRLS.  With the exception of my middle one- she is a bit of a “tomboy” like I was when I was young- these girls are all about Barbies, princesses, tiaras, finger nail polish…But now that I think about it, even the tomboy-ish one doesn’t shy from fancy dresses or the all-important role of mother to her baby dolls (and to her baby brother when I’m slacking).  In any case, my three wonderful girls are a challenge in so many ways.  But the challenges, I’ve come to realize, are just the vehicles by which I can grow in understanding of the perfect design of children, and most especially little girls!

Recent challenge: HAIR.

Just the other day, as we were getting ready for an important family event, I realized that one of my biggest fears as a mother of three girls is never being able to master the art of french braids.  Okay, okay, maybe not one of my biggest.  But seriously.  I have THREE girls (I did mention that, right?), I have crazy curly hair that I could do absolutely nothing with as a child, so I’m unfamiliar with the relatively straight hair all my girls have…and I do not know how to french braid! I mean, yes, I get the logistics of it, the basic premise.  I understand how it should look.  But there’s a slight huge disconnect between what my brain wants me to do and what my hands actually do, and the end result is kind of like a weird, lopsided braid that looks like the girls rolled around on the carpet for awhile just after I finished.  Yet they didn’t, I swear.

Thank the gracious Lord that He knew what He was doing by giving me these little girls, who will probably never have a perfect french braid donning their heads…ever…but who planned their personalities, talents, characteristics and even their gender, specifically for the purpose they have in my life and more importantly, in the world.  I know that french braids or any stylish coiffure are not a sign of beauty, femininity, who a person is, or how much value they have.

My “tomboy” is 5 1/2 years old.  She likes her hair crazy most days, but enjoys the occasional [regular] braid.  She plays Barbies, but she’s also not afraid of a wrestling match with her older brother, getting dirty,  or holding slimy worms between her small fingers.  She has an affinity for pretty necklaces, and for sloppy mud pies.  She is sweet and generous,  but also has a bit of a temper: mother hen to her baby brother one minute, angry mobster over a toy the next.  I think God has big plans for her life.  One of the biggest, so far, has been to teach me the intricate and delicate balance of the nature of girls.  Even at age five, she displays a wealth of wisdom, and has a deeply nurturing spirit.  Her emotions are often CA-RAZY, but at the same time, a reminder to me and her daddy that she needs gentleness and patience to handle her.  She is strong, but also, fragile.  She deserves protection, love, respect.

I am  in constant awe of her and my other two girls, their personalities and the fact that even if they added absolutely nothing to my life, they have so much worth and beauty as individuals.  Their unique personhood and intrinsic value is written into their very nature and dignity as persons and has nothing to do with me. Nor does it have to do with the way they look, if their hair is braided perfectly, whether they like princesses or Angry Birds. And when they grow up, this will be truer still.  As women, they will hold the vast and sacred ability to be life-givers.  They will possess an even richer beauty, one that has nothing to do with my – or the world’s – view of them, especially as they come to an understanding of who they are and what their life’s purpose might be.  And I pray that they will know all of this.  That they will feel confident in their beauty and worth- two absolutes which are not defined by the latest fashions, views from other people, or experiences they’ve had, but the true, raw unadulterated and inherent absolutes shaped and formed in all of us as we were knit in our mothers’ wombs.