"You need to cut your hair. Stop hanging around that group of people. And don't do what you're doing," she said in an exasperated voice.
I pondered the words before replying.
"Mom that's the exact same thing you told me when I was seventeen."
It's true. At seventeen I had really long hair, hung around people that my parents did not approve of and was in a serious relationship with an older woman (Ginny was a Senior. I was a Junior).
At seventeen, I was mostly in trouble. So much so that it became one of my life's guiding principals. If I wasn't in trouble about something or the other, then I must not be doing something right. So in High School I got in trouble. In college I got in trouble. In Seminary, I got in serious trouble. At the Jefferson Street Baptist Chapel, where I was employed as a Professional Christian, I was forever being written up. And at Union Mission, there were lots of lectures, Letters-to-the-Editor and Tom Barton Editorials informing the world of the troubles I was in.
It's all come full circle.
I'm in trouble with my Mom again.
My hair is longer than it's been in years (what's left of it anyway), I hang around a tight group of suspicious friends ... and I'm in a relationship with a Junior to my Senior (though neither words are defined the same now as it was then).
Over the past two years, Mom and I have spoken almost daily. Everything about my life changed and like all good Mom's, she swooped into help her oldest child. Then I went on a Sabbatical to put the past in perspective and to plan the future and she was my confidant along the way. She encouraged and she chided. She gave suggestions that were perfect and others that were ignored. Yet we were together all along the way.
Then it started happening.
New patterns started to develop. "Why are you doing that?" became the first thing said in many of our conversations.
In other parts of my life, I struggled to answer that question. I'd fumble words, try to find logic, be politically correct or ... just grow silent. I'd crumble to the heaviness of the expectations of others to be ... whatever it was they thought I should be. I'd conform when I knew better.
I have no problems answering the question anymore.
I'm following my heart.
And following your heart always lands you in trouble.
