Honestly, I used to care too much about the way I look. I used to make sure I was ‘put together’
before I left the house. I used to get
creeped out when germs got too close or when stains appeared on my
clothes. Used to.
I also used to wish I could love without rules. Give without limits. Cry without restraint. Break without fear. Used to.
“Jesus said, ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not
hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” Matthew 19:14
She got right up in my face and spoke her Spanish slowly to
be certain that I would understand. Make
no mistake- I understood.
“BLANCO! Tu estas
blanco!” She exclaimed. “Y tu pelo es amarillo!”
Roughly translated- I’m white. I am white and my hair is yellow.
Her fascination continued as she declared- with what seemed
to be surprise- that my cheeks are pink and my eyes are blue. I couldn’t help but laugh.
Team Agapetos threw a fiesta after church this
afternoon. Dripping with sweat, I found
a seat on a 2×4 watching Chad
and Telfer work the grill. As I sat
contemplating whether to throw my hair up in a pony tail to get it off my neck
or just let it go, a small group of girls joined me. Being down at their level, they were immediately
infatuated with my hair.
As I tried out my Spanish, the girls played beauty school on
me. Before I knew it I had several new
friends and several new hairstyles.
Dirty fingers wound my hair into braids, twists, pony- tails, and I only
can imagine what else.
I’m not sure how to describe what I felt as I bonded with
these little girls. Six months ago, I
would not have been ok with 15 Costa Rican girls touching my head, let alone
playing with my hair. Somehow, something
in me has changed. I didn’t care. It wasn’t about my hair being clean or
‘pretty’. It wasn’t about me at
all. And for some reason- I loved it.
These past two months have schooled me in the things that
matter most. I feel as though most of
life I’ve been deceived- deceived into believing that success is narrowly
defined within the four walls of my cubicle.
Don’t read me wrong- life in the States is good. Much of what I’ve invested time/ money/ my
life into has been good, commendable things.
Things I don’t regret. What I missed
in all those things was the answer to the cry in my heart for something
more.
What I have found in my dirty hair is Jesus Christ- real,
alive, and moving in the earth. I love
it. I still want MORE! I still want it ALL!
