While trying to tame unruly hair this morning I reflected on my hairdresser’s comment about the cowlicks I have here and there. Hmmm…maybe I was born in a barn.

Barns conjure up thoughts of nurture, shelter, warmth, food, pungent refuse, true reality, and that life takes tending. They are strong structures that last for generations, when built on strong foundations. So what does one do when foundations are shaken, things get stinky, there is threat of the barn tumbling down? Abandon it? Blame the cow? Or embrace the reality and beauty of what that unruly stuff means. Like cowlicks that insist on going their way…

For hair, I tug and pull, back-comb a bit, add gel or mousse, and, of course, add spray to hold it all in place. Dealing with my own personal cowlicks the best I can, trying to exert my brand of influence or measure of control, I am still learning better ways of managing those wayward places in me, figuring how to steward my barn. And still I need help!

Me thinks it’s not so bad to carry traits of being born in a barn. After all, that’s where my Savior was born, amidst all the barn-y things. Who knows, maybe He received a loving cowlick or two.

Could our cowlicks be a hidden reminder of the love given us from long ago, an infinite Love that still loves us so? Why not? No matter where we were physically born, what station in life we hold, whether or not our parents cherished us, what challenges in life we face, there are always those glimpses, those gentle nudges, maybe even a lick or two, to remind us of our humble beginnings, and to encourage along. Maybe I was not literally born in a barn… but like each of us, came born in naked humility with my own unique messes. Praise God He is an unchanging sturdy foundation that can never be moved. Even when my world seems upside down, His foundation is sure.

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