Ever since I was around the age of 15, my hair has taken on the family genes of curls. I have had curly hair every day and well, every day I live out more and more the phrase, “The grass is always greener on the other side” with my incessant desire for straight hair. Somehow I found the incredible invention of a straightener sometime around high school and that changed it all. My God-given hair was pulled, tamed, and straightened into the closest replica of the perfect hair, in my mind. That is, of course, until there is one ounce of moisture in the air which makes my straight hair look more like a frizzed out mess of a mop. But nonetheless I try with every fiber in my body to control and straighten my hair at every chance.
Well, life on the race was no different. I actually left on the Race thinking I would be unable to do anything with my hair. I thought I would be a ponytail wearing, zip-off pant styling, old t-shirt sporting mess of a missionary all year. Gladly mistaken, I found that my teammate packed a straightener for the year away from home. I jumped back on my bandwagon of straighter hair is better hair as often as I could living in extremely humid countries and places that didn’t have electricity.
At month 2 debrief, I sported my straightened hair in front of the whole squad for the first time. I remember all the complements, wonderful words of beauty and stunned looks that came in a matter of minutes. I loved those moments where people liked my hair just like I did. Granted, I clung to their words thinking that since they only said those things when my hair was straight then it must only be true when my hair is straight. My beauty was being defined by my worldly approach and attempt at harnessing what I thought beauty was.
When month 3 rolled around, we were blessed with a living location that had electricity where I could, again, strive to present myself with my idea of beauty. On one fateful day, I was finishing up getting my hair ready for a squad dinner and something started to smoke. I could smell burning hair. I ignored it because I only had a small bit left to straighten. Well, the heat on the straightener was burning my hair. I finished, but what I finished with was a head of straightened hair, however much of which was fried to a crisp.
If that wasn’t a lesson enough, the Lord started to speak to me about things I needed to give up. He was whispering to my spirit about a time to move away from certain things in my life. He was calling me to obey. I felt the pressure of the Lord’s desires for me to move closer to him, but I also knew what to do and I didn’t do it. I desired to become closer with the Lord, but I wasn’t willing to give up…my idea of beauty-straightening my hair.
Months past where I filled God’s call to give up something for a season with anything I could think of. I went through anything and everything you can think of to give up, but God kept whispering to my spirit to give up straightening my hair. I finally made the decision in Malaysia (Month 4) that I wouldn’t be straightening my hair again until the end of the race. Seven months of nothing but curly hair lay ahead of me.
To be honest, the first couple of months were really hard. After the day that my hair was fried, my teammates straightener broke, but other racers came out of the wood works with their travel size straighteners. I had to control my urge to borrow these cherished machines on the race. I pushed through the days that I felt were hard, but God continued to try to reveal something to me.
Each day that I felt I was the farthest thing from beauty, God would bring someone to me that would complement my hair…my CURLY hair. I, honestly, hated it when someone would say something to me about my curly hair because I thought they were just doing it to make me mad. They had to know what was going on in my head. They had to know that I looked in the mirror that day and snuffed in disapproval of what I saw. Since I thought they were doing it to make me mad, it never settled in as truth. Day after day, I would continue to wake up in one humid country after another. From Asia to Africa to Europe, every place we lived contained some sort of moisture in the air (much more than Colorado ever does). With thick humidity around me all the time, my hair demonstrated much of the same qualities…thick and around me all the time. I couldn’t be that ponytail-wearing girl every day that I hoped I would be. I needed a little change. God was relentless at putting me with different teams, different squadmates, different teammates and different locals who would step in on those days that I hated my curly mess of hair and they would exclaim things like, “You are beautiful!”
“Your hair is gorgeous!”
“How did you do that?! It is wonderful!”
“You are beautiful!”
How was it that those same words were spoken to me when I had straight hair and I soaked them up like they were an oasis in a desert? Yet when they are said to me with curly hair, I blow them off, turning mad at the very people who said them to me.
God was still at work. And He might have known exactly how long it would take me to receive the complements on my curly hair.
So Month 4, I gave up straightening my hair until the end of the race…well…it is the end of the race. Month 11 is here, which meant straightening my hair was back. I thought about the perfect day that I would choose to christen my curly hair back into my old ways. I was planning for one of my last days of debrief before I went home. I thought about how it would be to reveal my straight hair in front of the squad again. Oh, I couldn’t wait!
Well, during this month it hasn’t just followed the pattern of the other 10 countries in being humid, but this one also holds a large portion of rainy days. I remember one day specifically I did what I have been doing for the last 5ish months. I wash my hair, brush it, and go. I don’t do anything to it. I don’t pull it back, I don’t twist my bangs, I don’t put in anything to control it, I just go. Of course by now the feelings I have about my plain jane curly hair are more subdued and accepted. One day, however, my hair wasn’t working for me. I looked in the mirror and scoffed, huffed and sneered at my hair. I wasn’t having it that day, and I felt the farthest thing from beautiful. I walk out of my room for the day and one of my squadmates stops dead in her tracks. “Wow! You are beautiful today!” I mean seriously, how does God do that? I pushed her comments away and went about my day still hating every photo taken of me. Again, someone stops me and says, “Your hair looks beautiful today!” The second one takes a hit on me. I go about the day working physical labor and getting hotter as the day goes on. With a birthday bash in the evening we all get ready for an evening out together. Someone takes a picture with me and sees it and says, “Wow! Your hair looks beautiful!” Third time hits me again and settles in a little more. I still wasn’t convinced with all their words so I was still counting down the days until I could do what I wanted to with my hair.
The next day was one of our off days. We planned to tour some of the major Northern Ireland hot spots and finish the day baptizing my teammates on the beach. We were to get all dressed up and take lots of pictures on this special day. I thought about it and decided this would be the day I do my big reveal of my straight hair. I woke up early and had one of my friends work meticulously not forgetting one strand of hair. Time for my big reveal came with our fancy dresses and pretty make-up. I peeled my ears for every word I had waited 7 months to hear.
Cricket…cricket…cricket…cricket…
I walked past person after person doing their morning routine and no one said anything. They looked past me as they were making their coffee, or shared a mirror with me while brushing their teeth, but said nothing. Where were these words that I clung to for my beauty? I was embodying this very idea of beauty that I have lived by for years, yet no one was seeing it. “Nice, Kate! Your hair is long,” came at me as I walked into the main room. Finally one word! But wait… all you have to say is my hair is long!?! Where is the “Wow, beautiful” comments!?
But just like God delivered angels to sing sweet complements over me during my bad curly hair days, he also delivered angels to me in that moment whispering to me my true beauty. It wasn’t about whether my hair was curly or straight that people saw beauty in me. It wasn’t how I styled it or even how I looked at myself in the mirror that defined my beauty. No, the days that people saw the beauty that they commented on were the days that they could see me walking in my true identity. Those were the times that God spurred them on to see me the way that He sees me. Those were the days that I was being shaped more into the woman, daughter, princess and chosen one in God’s Kingdom.
Beauty can be described by many, with examples or ideas to cover the board, but the true author and creator of beauty says,
“There is no flaw in you’re my darling!” Song of songs 4:7
“How attractive and beautiful they will be.” Zechariah 9:17
“He has made everything beautiful in its time.” Ecclesiastes 3:11
“The king is enthralled by your beauty.” Psalm 45:11
Beauty isn’t in the words that they say to me, or in the outlook of a strand of hair. Beauty is defined by the one who created me and the one who loves me just the way I am.
And that is the straight I want, straight to the point!
“I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made!” Psalm 139:14
