This is one of my favorite pictures from my time in Jamaica last summer.
For those who don’t know me too well, while attending cosmetology school in December 2016 I felt the Lord ask me to apply for an internship with a missions organization in Jamaica. I was so focused on getting to and preparing my heart to serve in Jamaica, that suddenly a career in cosmetology, something I had been chasing for nearly two years at that point, suddenly didn’t matter to me. I didn’t see how I could apply hair and makeup skills and formal training to international ministry. (Which isn’t to say anything negative about the beauty industry or those in it. I firmly believe that the Lord calls the strongest and most faithful hearts to this industry that needs His light and love just as much if not more as any other.)
But of course, God decided to prove me wrong. When I wasn’t leading teams last summer, there were more than a few days I was dropped off at the infirmary with only my sheers, combs, a razor and a helper. The infirmary is similar to a nursing home for the elderly, disabled, mentally ill, or basically anyone who has no one to care for them. For these residents, haircuts fall at the end of their list of needs that may or may not be met. It didn’t take long for me to realize how such a small act of service changed their moods and days entirely. Most of the men had never had their haircut by a woman, much less an American woman, and would genuinely light up when they saw me arrive. Before giving haircuts, I was mistakenly called the name of every other blonde, white woman that worked for ACE. But after, I quickly became known as “The Barber,” and suddenly everyone knew me. With limited time and resources, I could only give so many haircuts a day. But that didn’t stop half the male residents from lining up their wheelchairs and walkers. For these men, it was about the comfort of a haircut and a cleanly shaved face, but it was also about having someone to talk to, a young person to listen to their stories, and hands that didn’t cringe or shy away from touching them. The Lord used this experience to redefine my idea of ministry and mold my heart to see past just me.
As a millennial/gen Z’er, narcissism comes in my factory settings. I see the product of my self-serving generation, and I often worry about my own attitude and actions being perceived as such. Looking past just me, what affects me, how I affect others, making my life about others is more than just words. I believe that, in and of itself, is literally the heart of Christ. That is the epitome of worship, the end all, be all of what our twisted, manipulated, misinterpreted “religion” stems from. If you don’t know or believe this, you are not serving the same God as me.
God called me to the World Race. But I said yes because it isn’t about me. It’s about lifting His name, which comes from looking past mine.
There’s a beautiful line in a Kari Jobe song that captures my exact heart for the World Race:
“It is not fame that I desire
Nor stature in my brother’s eye
I pray it’s said about my life
That I lived more to build Your name than mine”
Two months until I launch. The Lord is already doing more than I even realize.
