a breath of hair....

I was sitting in church today...enjoying the music....contemplating communion - my past actions, some of which I deeply regret, the multitude of things for which I have to be thankful....my recent birthday that was splendiferious for so many reasons....the changes I would like to make in my life. All the usual spiritual aspects that tend to be a part of sitting still, focusing and nurturing my faith.

It's hard for me to sit still and just do one thing. Always has been. But I do try.

Usually I manage pretty well. But today...... There was this little elderly lady in front of me with the most beautiful soft white head of hair. I hope my hair turns that beautiful snowy white color when its time. And she was dressed in an elegant dark purple/burgundy-ish dress. Which tended to be a splendid background for that one lone snowy white hair that was laying so peacefully, but so very obviously, on her shoulder. I tried so very hard to ignore it. I mean really, it wasn't hurting anything just laying there. Besides, it wasn't any of my business. It's not like I even knew her and could reach up and flick it off for her. Which would have made my life considerably easier. But it was like a spotlight was shining on it, making me antsy crazy.

My gaze was continually and repeatedly drawn to that one lone snowy white hair. I determinedly looked away. And successfully managed to focus on the music or speaker for about ooooohhhh...30 whole seconds. Praying, by default, made it easier because I had to close my eyes. But like a magnet, that single beautiful snowy white hair, pulled my gaze to it, over and over again.

So I blew at it.

Softly.

Gently.

Unobtrusively.

Hoping that she would just think a cool breeze was blowing on her neck, since it was delightfully cold outside, even though the church was comfy warm.

I was so pleased when the third gentle blow made it move. I almost had it off of her shoulder! One more breath of air should have done it!

Then my daughter smacked me on the leg and hissed at me to stop it. Geez! I was so close and she wanted me to stop?!?!

Pfffft. I blew one more time and it shifted until it was almost touching the back of the pew. The suspense was killing me! My daughter was grin-glaring at me, whisper-threatening me...but that that snowy white hair was beckoning me and I had to, HAD to get rid of it!

So I oh-so-casually lifted my hand up as if I were going to touch the back of the pew to readjust the way I was sitting or reach for a hymnal in the back of the pew. Heck, I didn't care what I had to do in the realm of normal behavior, as long as I could reach oh-so-slowly, oh-so-nonchalantly and oh-so-slyly pluck it off of her shoulder!!!!!!!!!!! She never even felt me removing it. No one but my daughter even noticed.

I was that good.

And dayum it felt soooooooooooooo wonderful to be able to nestle back into my pew and focus on the music and sermon.

My soul was at peace. In church. As it should be. Ya know?