written by Corrie
"Find rest, O my soul in God alone; my hope comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken. My salvation and my honor depend on God; he is my might rock, my refuge. Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge."

Psalm 62 (5-8)

Norra was glad her hair was finally starting to grow some.. It had seemed stuck for such a long period of time.. Her hair was a reassuring presence and a constant companion.. When she wore it down, it would envelop her like a warm blanket in winter or the soft, smooth cocoon spun by a silk worm in summer. The slap, slap of her braid against her lower back was a simple pleasure and comfort… Akin to the reassuring warmth and strength of a lover’s (i.e. husband’s) touch..

Work was crazy as usual… Sometimes, being able to think clearly was as easy as trying to manage your hair after it comes tumbling loose… Her job often felt chaotic. Events would often unfold in a frenzied, hurried pace. Remaining calm was a challenge… Often she felt as if, no matter what she did she was doing the wrong thing. I.e. If she called to verify a price for a customer, others would grumble and fuss because the line was not ‘moving along.’ Or, if she tried to help a customer load his/her bags another one would become indignant because she had not (wasn’t able) to reply to them immediately… By the same token, other employee’s might fuss if you didn’t call them ‘soon enough,’ or stop flashing your distress light ‘soon enough’ etc etc.

At home things felt no less grim. Just the other day, Norra had tried to make soup for the family’s dinner…. Mother was exasperated because there was not enough meat in the broth… Norra had vacuumed all of the downstairs and swept, but when Mother came home she was upset because some coffee cups were out and two spoons were on the counter. (As a matter of fact, she started fussing about the kitchen before she greeted her daughter..) The list went on an on… The heart-ache and frustration she felt was similar to having a braid that was bound to tightly.. It causes throbbing on both sides of the head, and every time you move it causes more pain… Both at home and at work she felt this same way.. Regardless of what action she took - it almost always seemed to be the ‘wrong’ move, or insufficient at best…

If a braid is bound to tightly, it can cause permanent damage to the hair, resulting with many splits and breakage every time a girl moves her head. By the same token, harsh words can crush one’s spirit and wound the heart, leaving permanent scars. Why is this so? Why is it for every harsh and unkind word spoken, it seems that ten kind words are needed to ease the pain? Why is it that sad memories often spring to the mind before happy ones? Norra wondered if the desire and need for praise and affirmation (for both her actions & her hair) was a form of weakness or flaw in herself.? Sometimes you have to be patient with your hair, and sometimes you just have to be calm and take life’s licks on the chin… Just as your hair will all of a sudden, unexpectedly start to grow - God often brings special people and circumstances into our lives when we least expect them. "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11) Stay the course! 

This story was written by Corrie. If you like it please send her an email
to encourage her to write more of such lovely stories. Her email is:
Back Boy meets Girl