Gray Hair Equals Tough!

        Any time I find myself taking life too seriously, our loving Creator throws a zinger in just to shake me up. Today  as I was on my way to teach at my family’s martial arts school, I was worrying about the situation of the world; mudslides, earthquakes and any other number of catastrophes I can’t possibly do anything about or protect my family from.  Note to self: I should stop listening to the news.

        However, when I got to class, God found a way to distract me from my ever-growing worries.  One of our brand new five-year-old martial art students confronted me. He stood there staring up at me as I held a heavy bag in front of him on which he was going to practice his kicks. I stood behind the bag, a very padded cylinder that saves my shins from a number of bruises and possible broken bones and told him to begin his kicks.  The bag is just four foot tall so I tower over it, but his head just barely comes up half way on the bag.  From his viewpoint, I figure I look pretty imposing so I always try to bend over the bag a little so I can watch his technique and instruct him. I showed him which kicks I wanted him to practice by kicking the bag myself a couple of times.   I have changed his name to protect the not-so innocent. 

  George: "What’s your name again?"

  Me: "Mrs. Simmons."

  George: "You have gray hair!"

  Me: "Yes, I do."

  George paused at this point then threw two more kicks, "That means you’re old!"

  It was my turn to pause, contemplating if it was okay to let him know that since I was holding the bag, the bag could hit him back. I refrained and replied, “Hmmm, I don’t think it does."

  George kept 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 there, it was almost Lent after all and instead I replied,  "It means I’m tough, that’s what gray hair means!"

 He gave me one of those looks  kids get on their faces when they are trying to decide which adult they should believe, his mom or the tall lady who can kick this bag really hard. Finally another student broke in rescuing both of us before any of this got really nasty.

   It was then I 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 and be in the moment of my day.

 Thank you Lord for directing my worries into more positive action; oh and also thank you for helping me keep my sense of humor.  Maybe I can change this five-year’s thoughts on us gray haired people.  We are a tough bunch, you know!