I got an epiphany in the shower. But I wasn’t alone.

In the shower that is.

And I wasn’t the one getting sprayed with water. Unless, of course, you count the splashes from the protesting feet, flaying arms, and flowing tears that my daughter doused me with every few moments.


Knot a Happy Camper

Our dual assault was on a huge knot in the back of her luxuriant blond hair. And the knot was winning.

My strategy in such battles—which occur every few months—is to soak the snarl of hair with conditioner and rake through it piece by painful piece with a wide-tooth comb. Regardless of how gentle I am, it’s an excruciating experience for both of us—her twitching and screaming, and me restraining myself from complaining, “I told you so” and “If you only…”.

I must admit I’ve been tempted to pull out a razor and shave her bald.


Combing Through My Life

When the two of us finally step out of the shower, I’m almost as wet as my naked child even though I’m fully clothed.

This time, while conditioning, cajoling, and combing out the quagmire of my daughter’s hair, something occurred to me: Isn’t this just like what God does with me in my life?

When I can’t get a comb through the chaos of my life, I approach Him with my head bowed in shame over the mess I’ve made of another situation because again I neglected the basic care of my heart.

Then I stand naked before Him as He showers me with love and gently untangles the shambles I’ve made. It’s always a painful process—Him combing, me twitching. He doesn’t have to say, “I told you so” because I hear His Word reverberating in my head. He doesn’t have to chime, “If you only…” since I know what I need to do. I’m not a child, for goodness sake.

Yeah, right.


God’s Perfect Parenting

I think I’ve got one advantage over my daughter, though. I’m learning to say “thank you” when He combs out my tresses—I mean, messes. At least I’m humble enough to admit my carelessness and inattention.

I’m also learning what an amazing parent He is. He’d never think of hack away at my life. Oh, no. He’s going to milk this lesson for all it’s worth so I eventually “get it”.

Hmm, these shower revelations are getting a little too intense. Maybe I’ll start taking a bath.