My recent hair appointment resulted in a setback.
After three years spent growing out the bangs my ex-husband loved, I made the grave error of arriving at my appointment in a “do whatever you want” mood.
Alan wanted bangs.
Craving some immediate and measurable improvement in my appearance, I threw caution to the wind (despite a nagging no on the inside) and said, “Go for it!”
At the first snip, I knew they were too short.
I groaned internally. This was not my first bang rodeo.
Six-months of hair angst would ensue before I could return to my former bang-less glory.
The only comfort? Looking over my shoulder at previous bang travesties and knowing that, eventually, they always grow back.
Which is a great metaphor for any setback in life.
Think of something that pained you in the past. Do you now think of it differently?
Being laid off from QVC? Now I say THANK GOD I didn’t spend my career selling gold chains (though I am happy for those that do.)
The one that got away? I’ve seen his Facebook photos, and he didn’t age well.
Then, there are the more deeply stinging setbacks. Like the 17 years spent in a church that turned out to be a cult.
Sure, I could waste my energy bemoaning the “lost” years, but were they really lost?
The harshest, most painful setbacks in life (and there were plenty at that place) give us crystal clear clarity on what we don’t want and what we do want.
Never shall I allow my voice to be silenced in the face of injustice again. I will not allow others to assign my worth, nor will I be controlled by someone else’s “vision” for my life.
Just as the scriptures say, I had to lose my life to find it.
The experience set me back to set me up for who I am today.
The loss of my father at age ten still befuddles me. But that setback birthed in me a keen understanding that life is precious…and fleeting. That you should end conversations with a heartfelt “I love you” because you don’t know when or if you’ll get another chance to do so in this life.
A recent post talked about how time offers perspective unavailable when in the midst of turmoil. The 56 -year-old version of me now feels my father’s presence at key moments and I have an unshakable knowing that he is ever-present, offering emotional support.
A very present help in time of trouble.
The immortality of his beautiful soul offered small comfort to a little girl who just wanted a big hand to hold. Forty-six years later, I understand his transition to non-physical as a new way to know him.
Our word these past two weeks has been celebration.
My interpretation has been to embrace celebration as appreciation, yes, even for the setbacks in life.
They unfailingly become setups for good if we’ll choose to see them that way.
Hoping you find sources of inspiration around every corner.