This morning as I stumbled into my morning shower, I glanced up to see the sun reflecting through the water. It was mesmerizing to see an exact picture of something I’ve been praying through recently. Second Corinthians 4 has appeared in my life a lot the past few weeks. I’ve loved the analogy of us being clay jars for as long as I can remember, but I’ve heard the Lord saying “see something new.” In 2013, I sat in Costa Rica promising to be moldable. To be willing to be that of clay in order to seek something greater. It hasn’t been clear why this passage has resurfaced until today, and I think it’s best to explain through a story, so hang on tight.
She began to sit a little straighter, and she began to talk a little more, and she began to laugh a little harder. There was this girl whose story picks up in the middle of everything.
Her image represented kindness and love, but her hair set her apart. It was a disheveled field of dandelions, dry enough to cause a forest fire. Her hair was the flames that people looked to first. No one dared to move, because they knew the fire ran deeper than just the flowers. It was powerful and uncontainable. The girl’s spirit was sweet and since her hair spoke wonders, she didn’t have to. She met pride and rested in a contentment that allowed the fire to stop spreading. She decided it was time for something new. New hair that represented a new chapter. She cut the dandelions, and with that, the weeds that had grown over the gentle humility of her heart. The girl, now naked in plain sight, stopped in her tracks.
She began to slouch a little harder, and she began to talk a little less, and she began to laugh a little quieter. She saw the girl in second grade who played with rocks at recess, because the girls with the fiery hair and disheveled hearts were scary. She held onto the dirt, because this she knew, was solid. Their whispers were the smoke around the flames. “I’ll never need to be that” she would remind herself.
Nineteen days ago, I cut my dreads off, and while most significant hair changes have a deep symbolism, I simply cut them because they stopped growing; dreads will return upon grown out hair. The aftermath, however, was anything but what I was prepared for. Isn’t God funny in how He convicts us of something we don’t even realize we were being convicted of until He’s already wrecked us? I didn’t feel beautiful. I received SO MUCH love and encouragement. SO MUCH. And still, I would stare in the mirror and wish I felt pretty. I’ve never dealt with that emotion, and for that I am grateful. I’ve been dealing with it everyday recently, and for that I am grateful. He brought me to a place of my childhood, when I hid from the girls with unique hair who danced with pride. “You were beautiful then.” Identity. I am who I am in the Lord, and I can be the girl with a dandelion field heart, without the wild hair.
Remember 2 Corinthians 4? When I gazed up at my shower this morning, the Lord sweetly whispered, “when clay gets wet, it is no longer the same.” How humbling and beautiful is it to be reminded that just because I promised to be moldable then, didn’t mean I knew what it meant to truly be willing until this very moment? I am a clay jar, with short hair, and a heart ablaze.
In exactly ONE MONTH, my squad is launching. I’ll let that sink in for a moment. ONE MONTH. Please subscribe for updates, so that you can know what the Lord is doing while we’re gone! Please also continue praying for our squad, team, hearts, and finances. Our squad leaders lost a squad mate of theirs to a tragic car accident a couple of days ago, so please please be praying for all of the hearts involved. Thank you all for being a part of this journey! All the love!
