the Hair on my chinny chin chin

​The Three Little Pigs saga has become real for me in the last few years. As my kids have gone out into the world like the pigs in the story, my hopes are they will not try to build a life with unsubstantial things like metaphorical straw and sticks that will deteriorate, but instead will choose friends and values that are brick solid. And most importantly when the big bad wolf comes around they recognize danger and bravely say to injustice “not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!”
With age comes wisdom and so it is I now know a thing or two about that proverbial hair on my chinny chin chin. Though I’m not sure when it came into my life, I have fought with one stubborn chin hair for years. And I was not ready for the hair I once knew as luscious eye lashes to relocate to my toe-knuckles when I turned 50! The thought crossed my mind recently if I were to go on the TV show Survivor, the one item I’d take on the island would be a good pair of tweezers. My mom, in her comforting way said, “When it comes to hair, you either want it when you don’t have any, or don’t want it where you do.” She is so wise.
 Another solitary hair appeared on the scene when my son thought puberty hit.  He raced excitedly into the room and triumphantly held his arm high in the air displaying a single hair nestled in his armpit. We all leaned in close as to appreciate the wonder of it until my daughter took a big huff and puff and blew it away. We watched in horror and sadness as the piece of fuzz floated into the air and broke my son’s heart.
Around the same time as the armpit debacle another hair gained notoriety. My son and his pals were on a 5 ½ hour road trip to WV, packed tightly into the back seat of the truck, when they all noticed one boy had a lone hair on his chin about 2 inches long. They made quite a big fuss about it as it seemed this one trophy hair indicated he was winning the race to manhood. After a few hours, the boy next to him could take his bragging no longer so he simply reached over to his friend and plucked it out. Understandably they rode the rest of the way through the mountains in silence.
Maturity never seems to come fast enough. Growing up we made root-beer instead of buying soda pop. We mixed the flavoring extract, yeast, water, and sugar in a 10-gallon stone jar, bottled it in recycled glass pop bottles, and put metal caps on with a metal crimper. The bottles were placed on their side so the little air bubble would rest in the middle and wouldn’t blow off the cap. There was always the chance one would explode and honestly I don’t know which I liked more, the taste or the excitement! During the two to three weeks it took to mature, I’d ask repeatedly in anticipation, “Is it ready yet??”
 My daughter has a saying, “If you STAY ready, then you don’t have to GET ready.” She’s talking about fashion, but it translates into spiritual preparedness. We have to stay ready because the world is full of wolves trying to trick us and shake our foundation. The Bible in 1 Peter 5:8  refers to a lion instead of a wolf. “Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.”
 I long to know Jesus and His word better so we can adequately withstand the big bad wolf...so we can  fight with a fierceness that comes with maturity shouting into the situation, “Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!”
 

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