won't you let me match your stride?

About a week and a half ago I went with my friend to get our nails done.  Whenever I go to nail salon’s it’s usually with large groups of girls and almost always in the summer and only for pedicures.  However, my friend knew a place with a cheap mani-pedi deal so alas, I found myself getting both a pedicure and a manicure.
Now here’s something you should know about me… I cannot remember the last time I got a manicure.  Although I’m pretty sure it was when I lived in New Jersey meaning it was circa 1998.  Furthermore I never paint my fingernails…ever.  I don’t like the fact that it chips so easily and I think it’s pretty much a waste of time.  But she talked me into it and so I went through with it.
I picked out a nice deep purple and sat to be pampered.  I got done faster than my friend so I had some time to let my nails dry completely before having to drive us back to campus.  This ended up being an extremely good thing considering I realized that I am not used to suddenly not being able to use my fingers fully.  The thing with nail polish is that it dries relatively fast but then needs to sit for a while before it’s hardened (I think that’s the right terminology).
I kept hitting my fingers on things and then immediately pulling my hand to my face to survey the damage.  My friend was getting pretty sick of me and finally said, “Leesh!  You have to learn to be careful for a little while.  You can’t fully use your hands yet!”
I suddenly had flash backs to my mom getting her nails done and then making me do things like look for her wallet, her keys, open the car door.  Basically to me, my mom getting a manicure was equal to my becoming her servant for an afternoon.  I stared down at my nails (one of which I had chipped getting into the car) and realized I was not this girl.  I’m not the girl that gets her nails done and then is unable to care for herself all afternoon.  I hate having the though, “what if it messed up my nails?”
Now I realize that that’s a hugely over dramatic statement.  I know getting one manicure doesn’t make me that girl.  But more and more being here, both in seminary and in this stage of life, that I am the girl that gets her hands dirty and can do anything for herself.  I do not let myself be cared for.  I try so hard to care for others well and I want so badly to help others but when I need to be cared for I just withdraw into myself and push others away.
For the past week and a half I’ve been trying to let people in, I’ve been trying to allow people to see me broken.  I’ve been trying to let people care for me, realizing that they are imperfect the way I am imperfect.  But being part of a community is allowing people to help you up when you feel like you cannot go on.
And I figured this all out after getting a manicure for the first time in 12 years.  I just love the way God shows up in the little places.