I have a crooked head.

 

I am grateful for crooked things, like Bebe’s tail, or that one flower in the arrangement that just won’t conform, or the part in my hair that Mom always insisted on fixing with that comb that hurt so bad, or the handwriting of a grandchild just learning to write her name and mine, or Bingo players who are crooked in temperament and in stature, or the stately old tree that is so beautiful with character from years of growth, displaying its  one-of-a-kind silhouette against the sunset. Crooked is unique. Crooked is evidence of a process, of something that happened or something that is happening – either forward or backward.  

My head is crooked. I used to be bothered about my crooked smile. I think I fixed that, for the most part. Practice, I guess, pulling the muscle up on one side, being conscious that I wasn’t “even.” But now, I notice, in almost every picture of me, my head cocks to one side. I think I figured out why this morning – I sit at two computer screens all day long and stare into the monitors, head cocked to one side as I glance back and forth from screen to screen, but I mostly concentrate on the screen not directly in front of my gaze. Hmmmmm. I need to fix this.

How interesting that if we fix our eyes on something other than Jesus, other than above, other than Who should be our Focus and our Anchor, we become “crooked.” And after so long a time, it just becomes who we are in the process. We don’t notice it unless we are forced to look at ourselves and stand in front of the introspective mirror.

My Soul’s Been Anchored in the Lord by Moses Hogan

It’s kind of like crooked teeth – it doesn’t happen overnight. Well, unless a person is in a bar fight or something… Teeth just grow crooked sometimes, until an adjustment is made and braces to change the alignment of the teeth are forced into place.

Or that back, knee, or hip that slowly goes out and isn’t necessarily a big deal, just a slight ache and a dull pain that changes our gait and prevents us from enjoying a beautiful walk on a summer evening. We learn to live with it, when the chiropractor is just down the street and could easily provide a solution with a little bit of sacrifice and work on our part.

I am grateful for an introspective mirror, for pictures of my crooked head to remind me to re-focus, to sacrifice comfort and force myself to work and not become complacent with the way I am. I am grateful that the shadows and “crooked” of my life only prove the work of the Sunshine and the Healer and the Anchor whose name is Jesus.

 

We are crooked souls trying to stay up straight…the shadows prove the sunshine. – Switchfoot

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