Dear H, Some Things Matter More Than Hair

Dear H,

Boy, this was an interesting morning. More interesting than usual, to be sure.

We had recently purchased a small toy drone from the dollar store that was surprisingly well-made and quite fun to fly. Unfortunately, it had a rather unexpected outcome.

Your Momma was sitting on the couch when you accidentally flew the drone into her head. To our horror, the blades became tangled in her hair.

At that moment, your face instantly fell. I could see the fear in your eyes, and your Momma was understandably angry and worried about her hair.

She disappeared into the bathroom to begin the difficult work of untangling it, and you immediately started to follow her.

You knew what had happened. You knew you were responsible, even though it was an accident. We knew it was an accident, too.

You began apologizing and pleading for understanding. I could tell you desperately wanted to make things right.

But I put one hand up to stop you.

Maybe now that you're an adult, you understand what I meant by that gesture.

I told you to be quiet for a moment and give Momma some space.

You rushed over to the couch and jumped into my arms. Looking up at me through tears, you continued apologizing.

I whispered back, "I know, I know. Give Momma time."

We sat there together while I held you, and after a little while, I went to check on your Momma.

She was making progress with the untangling, although we eventually had to sacrifice some of her hair.

Your Momma handled the situation well. She was upset, of course, but we looked at each other with that understanding that sometimes parents share without even needing to speak.

It was an accident.

What we needed to do now was reassure you.

So I went back to the couch, took your hand, and escorted you to the bathroom.

You apologized to Momma, and she smiled.

All was well. She accepted your apology.

Now, H, there are two things I want you to understand about this morning. Things I hope you'll carry with you as you navigate your own relationships, especially if you have a family of your own someday.

First, if you're the one who has been hurt, learn to control your impulse to lash out.

Goodness knows how difficult that can be.

Sometimes our anger rises so quickly that we hardly have time to think before the words come spilling out. We want the other person to know exactly how upset we are, and sometimes we want them to feel as badly as we do.

But I want you to remember something James tells us in Scripture.

In James 1:19–20, he instructs us to be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger, reminding us that human anger does not produce the righteousness of God.

I think we would all do well to remember that.

Your children will do things that upset you. Your spouse will disappoint you. Friends and family will sometimes frustrate you beyond what you think you can bear.

And sometimes they won't even mean to.

But when those moments come, I want you to fight against the impulse to lash out.

If you need to leave the room and collect yourself, do it. Give yourself a moment to think before you speak. Anger is not always wrong, but it can certainly lead us to do things that are.

Now, I know what you're probably thinking.

"Well, Papa, you and Momma lost your tempers a lot."

You're right.

We did.

And it wasn't right. For those moments, we are sorry from the bottom of our hearts.

I wish I could say we always handled things with patience and understanding, but that simply wouldn't be true.

This morning was a good example of us managing a difficult situation well, but we didn't always do that.

So let this be a lesson to you, not because your parents perfected it, but because we know how easily we can fail.

Hair can grow back, but relationships are much harder to repair.

Your Momma's hair mattered, and she had every reason to be upset. But the relationship between a mother and her daughter mattered far more than a few strands of hair.

I don't want you to become so fixated on what someone has done that you forget the person standing in front of you.

And this brings me to the second thing I want you to remember.

When you're the one who caused the hurt, learn to own your mistakes.

You did that with the drone.

I know that feeling all too well. That gut punch when you realize you've done something that hurt another person, followed by the knee-jerk reaction to defend yourself or immediately try to make everything better.

So many things rush through your mind and heart.

You worry about how the other person sees you. You worry about the hurt you've caused. Sometimes you're more concerned with being understood than understanding the person you've hurt.

I know you loved Momma, which made the whole thing even harder for you.

You didn't mean to hurt her. But that didn't change the fact that she was hurt.

And that's something I want you to remember.

Sometimes our intentions are good, but the outcome is not. Even when something is an accident, we can still acknowledge the hurt we've caused and do what we can to make things right.

But you can't always fix everything immediately.

Sometimes the person you've hurt needs time. They may need to step away, collect themselves, and work through what happened.

And that's okay.

Give them that time.

Don't make their need for space another reason to be upset. Don't demand immediate forgiveness simply because you've apologized.

Be patient.

I think of Ephesians 4:32, where Paul tells us to be kind and tenderhearted toward one another, forgiving each other as God in Christ forgave us.

What a beautiful standard for our homes.

Imagine how different some of our relationships would be if we practiced that more faithfully.

We would still have disagreements. Accidents would still happen, and people would still disappoint us. But perhaps we would become a little quicker to show grace and a little slower to assume the worst about one another.

And that's what I hope for you.

H, as you move through life, you will make plenty of mistakes. Other people will make mistakes around you, too.

Some will be accidents. Others will come from selfishness, impatience, or simply not thinking before acting.

You will need to learn how to respond to both.

When you're hurt, try to respond with patience rather than anger. When you've hurt someone else, be humble enough to acknowledge it and make things right.

And remember that forgiveness and reconciliation sometimes take time. You cannot force another person's response, but you can take responsibility for your own.

I'm proud of how you handled that morning. You were frightened, and I know you wanted nothing more than to make sure your Momma wasn't angry with you.

But I hope that as you grow older, you'll learn something even greater than how to apologize.

I hope you'll learn how to love people through the mistakes they make.

And I hope you'll extend that same patience and grace to others that you'll undoubtedly need yourself.

Because one day, if you have children of your own, I suspect you'll find yourself in a bathroom somewhere trying to untangle a toy from someone's hair.

And perhaps you'll remember this morning and smile.

Or maybe you'll just wonder why in the world your Papa ever bought that drone in the first place.

Ha!

Whatever the case, I hope you remember that the people God has placed in your life are worth far more than the inconveniences they sometimes cause you.

Handle them with love, humility, and patience.

Your Papa loves you.