I developed early. By the end of elementary school, I was one of the tallest people in my class. My daddy used to make fun of me for having big feet. He was tall, so I thought I might be too.

Then I stopped. At 5’3″, I haven’t grown one inch since I was 12. I wear a size 6 shoe. My kids, who are all much taller than I am, call me Fun-Sized. My husband is mortified that I still wear the slip I got when I was 10 years old — if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, amirite?!

This was Christmas of 1976. It was the Bicentennial, so everything we wore was red, white and blue. Sure, I got the baby face. But beneath those bellbottoms, hormones were working their magic and my legs were sprouting a blonde coat. I begged my mama to let me shave them. Springtime was coming and I wanted to wear shorts!!! I would be shunned by my peers if I had furry legs!

Mama broke down and bought me a Daisy razor for girls, and I was elated! Patience never having been my strong suit, I immediately sat down on the side of my bed after school that day and commenced to recklessly rake that Daisy razor up and down my hairy legs. No water. No shaving cream. No soap. No concern for knees, ankles, or shins. No thought of the need for a light and gentle touch. I was out the gate like I was trying out for the Olympic Shaving team. I thought I knew what I was doing, but alas, pride goeth before a fall . . .

By the time I was done, I looked like I’d lost a Medieval sword fight. Razor burns from knees to ankles. Blood ran down my legs. Flesh and blonde hair stuck up out of that Daisy razor like I’d used it to skin a deer.

It was glaringly obvious I had been terribly wrong about how to properly shave one’s legs. I was embarrassed to show Mama what I’d done, but I was in need of first aid and she was the official Boo-Boo Fixer. I deserved every bit of her lecturing about how I shouldn’t have done that without her help and instruction. I didn’t wear shorts until all the scabs had fallen off, and I didn’t shave my legs again without her help. You didn’t have to tell me not to do that again!

Mama entrusted me with something I couldn’t handle on my own. I needed her wisdom, education and guidance. I learned again that day what I really already knew: MAMA KNOWS BEST and I will save myself a lot of pain and suffering if I will trust her.

Those of you who have read my blog know what’s coming next. I will take an past experience of mine and turn it into a life application for you today, so you can become a better person like I have been because of having been through it! So for those who have ears to hear, I have some words of wisdom from 11 year old me.

Here of late, I find myself surrounded by people who have been given positions of authority without the experience, education, knowledge, ability, and humility to handle it. Many people I love are being needlessly and carelessly hurt and I’m heartbroken. The result of their unwillingness to seek wisdom of those wiser and more knowledgeable than they are is producing chaos and destruction, and I’m powerless to fix it. I doubt any of those folks will read this, but writing is therapeutic for me, and those who DO read what I write might actually learn something too!

If you have been given responsibility for anything at all: a vehicle, pets, children, a home, employees under your supervision, or if you live and work in any proximity to other human beings, LISTEN UP.

Just because you have been given the TOOLS for the job doesn’t mean you have the WISDOM, EDUCATION and TRAINING to operate them.

Take the time to ask someone wiser and more experienced than you. I now know I should have said, “Thanks for the Daisy razor, Mama! I’m excited to have smooth legs. Tonight at bath time, can you teach me to use it since you’ve been shaving your legs for 30 years?” That would have saved me a lot of scabs and scars!

New to the job? New to the team? Got a new puppy? New baby? Don’t be like my son Daniel who literally said to me minutes after he got his drivers’ license at age 16, “No need to tell me anything else, Mom. I’ve had my permit for a year. I know everything there is to know about driving.” Um, no. Pull this vehicle over right now before we both die . . .

We call this having a TEACHABLE SPIRIT.

“Do you see see a man who is wise in his own eyes? There is more hope for a fool than for him,” Proverbs 26:12

Having a teachable spirit means being a life-long learner. It means whether you are an 11 year old, hairy, immature and hormonal preteen, or whether you are a 50 year old elected official, YOU STILL HAVE MUCH TO LEARN. A wise person learns from others and doesn’t think they know everything.

As I quoted earlier,

“Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall,” Proverbs 16:18

Take it from 11 year old me, we all need to learn from those wiser than we are. It’ll save us all and those in our wake a lot of needless pain and scars, and the world will be a better place. Who wouldn’t want that?