Summer is in full swing and the challenge of being a work from home mom with four kids is working from home with four kids.

I was a bit distracted, needing to finish some projects before vacation, so when the five year old entered the room, I was half listening. Just moments before, I had broken up a karaoke cage match that started when one child vaulted off the bed onto the other to fight for custody of a microphone.

“Mommy,” my son began with a sly smile that said he wanted something.

“Uhhummmm…” I replied.

“The girls are doing spa treatments and I wondered if I could do it to.”

When you are the youngest and have two older sisters, you become a life sized doll that gets dressed in tutus, has his nails painted and participates in many a tea party, complete with pinkie raised.

To his credit, he is usually a willing victim and if it would keep them occupied for a bit, I was all for it.

“Sure,” I said.

He did a dance and clapped his hands.

“Thanks! I think I’ll let them do my legs,”  he said and scampered off to spread the good news.

I didn’t give it another thought until I heard him cry out in pain. I sprang up from my desk and he walked into the kitchen in tears.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“My legs,” he wailed.

I looked down and saw both legs were covered with a clear substance that had dried to the touch. I then realized I should have paid closer attention.

The girls’ favorite spa treatment is a liquid mask that is smeared on and once dry, you peel off the layers. It feels amazing on your face, but when applied to a five year old’s legs, with hundreds of tiny hairs, it would be excruciating to remove.

I tried to gently pull off a small patch. He screamed in pain.

I felt for him but did think his future wife should thank me for this lesson that would give him lifelong empathy for all the beauty torture women submit themselves to for their mates.

“Sorry buddy,” I said. “This might hurt a bit.”

It reminded me of the moments in my life when God is peeling back the layers. Guiding me in a new direction. Refining. Growing. It tends to be painful. Agonizing even.

For you, God, tested us: you refined us like silver. You brought us into prison and laid burdens on our backs. you let people ride over our heads; we went through fire and water, but you brought us to a place of abundance. Psalm 66:10-12

We worked for a good ten minutes. Tears and tiny hairs.

Finally we were done. He ran his hand down his sore legs and his face broke out into a huge grin.

“Mama, feel my legs!”

He thrust them toward me gleefully.

“They are so smooth!”

And they were. Hairless, but oh so smooth! And as is true in life, on the other side of the peeling and pain is unexpected and unimagined joy.

Off raced my joy boy, up the steps shouting, “Smooth. They are so smooth! Girls, you gotta feel this!”