Any time I find myself taking life too seriously, our loving Creator throws a zinger in just to shake me up. Today I found myself worrying about mudslides, earthquakes and any other number of catastrophes I can't possibly do anything about or protect my kids from, when I was confronted by one of our five year old martial art students.
He was staring up at me as I held a heavy bag which we use for them to practice kicks on. The heavy bag saves my shins from a number of bruises and possible broken bones. I showed him how to throw kicks on the bag and then held it for him to do. While I tower over the bag, his head just barely comes up half way on the bag, so he was looking straight up as we worked.
"What's your name?"
"You have gray hair!"
"Yes, I do."
Pause, kick twice, "That means you're old!"
Pause, keep from kicking him back, "Hmmm, I don't think it does."
Keeps, kicking, "Oh, yeah, it does."
"Why do you think that?"
"My mom says old people have gray hair."
"So does your mom color her..." I stopped myself before I even began that question, it was Lent after all and instead replied "It means I'm tough, that's what gray hair means!"
He gave me one of those looks when kids are trying to decide which adult they should believe, their parent or the tall lady who he has seen kick this bag in front of him really hard. Finally another student broke in rescuing both of us before we either of us got really nasty.
And I was tough, tough enough to realize God was trying to redirect my thoughts into helping this five year old learn his kicks, and maybe a few manners, instead of spending my time worrying about the things I can't change. Hopefully I could change this five year's thoughts on us gray haired people, we're a tough bunch you know!