Finding Gray
I found seven gray hairs yesterday, and I saw at least three more hiding. I was minding my own business doing my hair, like I do any ordinary morning. Thinking I had a clump of hair wax in my head—don’t get me started on how bizarre it is to put wax in my hair—I reached up to remove the offending smear of white, only to find myself trailing a gray hair to the root. Unbelievable, I thought. My delusions of a freak occurrence were shaken as I removed gray hair number two. Later that day in carline, numbers three through seven made their untimely appearances as I examined my head in my visor mirror. Gray is now my reality.
Earlier in the day, I texted my sister to ask her if finding gray hairs made me wise, old or both. She responded by telling me she had one for every male in her home—a quiet total of three. When I found more than two, I knew there were problems with her theory. Later that day, she thought it funny to ask if I was sure I wasn’t the one who was older between the two of us. Touché. I told her it simply meant I was wiser.
For one fleeting moment, the thought of coloring my hair passed through my mind. I know plenty of women I consider to be godly and humble who color their hair. For me, though it’s not an option, at least not right now. When it comes to valuing the eternal, I have to ask myself if I need another thing to do that is only temporary. Besides, anyone who knows me knows when life gets busy my roots will end up showing. It’s too much work for too little return.
I’m not opposed to hair color. I enjoy watching the girls in my small group change hair color more often than I change my mind (which being a melancholy happens frequently). But the gray hairs vs. hair color debate in my mind has brought me to an interesting place once again. Two books later, I choose everyday to believe God’s standard of beauty trumps the world’s.
As women, we are growing old in a society that does not honor age. I know my body will continue to groan along with all of creation for redemption (Romans 8:22-23). But deep inside me, I want God’s healing in my life to be so sure that no matter what season of my life, my convictions about beauty are unshakeable.
Listen to Me, O house of Jacob, and all the remnant of the house of Israel, You who have been borne by Me from birth and have been carried from the womb; Even to your old age I will be the same, and even to your graying years I will bear you! I have done it, and I will carry you; and I will bear you and I will deliver you. --Isaiah 46:3-4 (NASB)
Earlier in the day, I texted my sister to ask her if finding gray hairs made me wise, old or both. She responded by telling me she had one for every male in her home—a quiet total of three. When I found more than two, I knew there were problems with her theory. Later that day, she thought it funny to ask if I was sure I wasn’t the one who was older between the two of us. Touché. I told her it simply meant I was wiser.
For one fleeting moment, the thought of coloring my hair passed through my mind. I know plenty of women I consider to be godly and humble who color their hair. For me, though it’s not an option, at least not right now. When it comes to valuing the eternal, I have to ask myself if I need another thing to do that is only temporary. Besides, anyone who knows me knows when life gets busy my roots will end up showing. It’s too much work for too little return.
I’m not opposed to hair color. I enjoy watching the girls in my small group change hair color more often than I change my mind (which being a melancholy happens frequently). But the gray hairs vs. hair color debate in my mind has brought me to an interesting place once again. Two books later, I choose everyday to believe God’s standard of beauty trumps the world’s.
As women, we are growing old in a society that does not honor age. I know my body will continue to groan along with all of creation for redemption (Romans 8:22-23). But deep inside me, I want God’s healing in my life to be so sure that no matter what season of my life, my convictions about beauty are unshakeable.
Listen to Me, O house of Jacob, and all the remnant of the house of Israel, You who have been borne by Me from birth and have been carried from the womb; Even to your old age I will be the same, and even to your graying years I will bear you! I have done it, and I will carry you; and I will bear you and I will deliver you. --Isaiah 46:3-4 (NASB)
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