lynn-guistics

And when the Chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the crown of glory that will never fade away. ~ 1 Peter 5:4 The most vivid memory I have of my maternal grandmother, nicknamed Dizzy because of her oft-flaky behavior, relates to her hairstyle, for it was her crowning glory! No matter the state of her health or the weather conditions, Diz never missed a hair appointment. Each week, she would move swiftly into the beauty shop near our home and spend the next hour being shampooed, teased and shellacked by Deitmar, a slight, excitable German man who exhibited a surprisingly gentle side when tending to my grandma. And despite a hairstyle that was unyielding, even on the most blustery or steamiest of days, Diz would return home from Deitmar’s salon and proceed directly to the upstairs bathroom, where she would apply even more hairspray to her already-immovable coif. And then she’d descend the stairs to the den with a smile, and that coy, lovely smile would brighten the day of each perso

My foray into the world of prayer began in earnest when I entered my teen years, with most of my time spent uttering this simple, yet heartfelt plea: “God, please help me to GROW!” A not-so-surprising request given that I’d achieved a mere 47 inches in height by the age of 12 and had already faced a good bit of ridicule because of it. Couple that with a traumatic move from Nashville to Houston and a powerful outbreak of teen acne, both occurring just before my entry into 6th grade, and my prayer seemed reasonable, even vital, for my well-being. After all, my confidence was thoroughly shaken, and what little self-esteem I possessed was rapidly plummeting. Some divine intervention was certainly in order! But, even with my fervent, oft-lifted prayers, it soon became clear to me that God was completely ignoring my appeal for growth. My suspicions were confirmed during my 6th grade year – I could detect no changes to my vertically-challenged condition and taunts about my stature intensified