As a tiny child I had a stuffed dog named Real. As I remember him his neck was so thin his head flopped over, his nose was about gone, and in general he just looked much different from the picture in the baby book (which is now lost to me) where he was new. He was named after the Velveteen Rabbit.
“Real isn’t how you are made. Real is something that happens to you when Someone loves you for a long time…”
I said it once to a beautiful college student in LA who was studying film, when she got back from a summer mission trip: “You’re becoming real!” Praise the Lord, she took this as a high compliment.
So I have long loved this concept of real. It’s probably at the root of why I quit coloring my hair and go with the grey (and I think I look good in grey) and of why I don’t wear make up hardly ever (and my husband wants to kiss me, not powder or lipstick–I want to be kissed like all the time!).
And there’s a song I’d love to sing to you, or have you click and watch Rich Mullens sing it. Sometimes tears pour down my cheeks as I listen and open my heart again: Growing Young.
Yesterday ladies gathered in my living room while children played outside and in different groups played music in the front room. We wouldn’t have gathered without those music classes in the front room, yet we each of us so valued the time with the other mothers, time to talk of real things, time to share the struggle in the presence of the Lord who Loves.
All thanks and praise to him!