Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Never quite been a fan of hats. Some cuties, like this little hat happy boy, make hats look good. Honestly, they look a bit goofy on me. Yet, I wear them.
A floppy one to protect against the desert sun. A black and yellow to cheer on my baseball boys as they run the bases. A momma hat. A wife hat. A homeschool Chemphysology Spanish teacher hat. A foster parent hat. A tattered and dreary hat to remind me of my past. A perfection splattered hat that I choose to wear. Lots and lots of hats.
A friend, handed me a book yesterday. One all about hats, written for children. Crazy how a child's book sometimes holds the deepest truths. A Hat for Ivan by Max Lucado helped me to plum take off some hats and make sure I was only wearing the right one.
Jump into the pages with me today ...
I'm the hat-maker Ivan. I have seen what happens when people wear hats that weren't intended to wear. They feel silly. They fall down. And they get tired. ...
Listen, son, just because someone gives you a hat, that doesn't mean you are supposed to wear it. They mean well, but they don't know you. That's my job. I'm the hat maker, and I'm your father.
"So, you'll make a hat just for me?"
"I will. All you have to do is ask."
I'm hat happy this morning. Happy that my God knows the perfect hat for me to wear. Happy that I can simply choose not to wear the perfection and tattered hats in my closet. Happy that my hat is filled with what I really love to do. Happy that my God will make a hat for me, that fits all of my desires, gifts, talents & joys. Happy that my hat rack emptied just a bit this morning.