At some point during college, my hair started getting a little wave to it, which made living in a city-wide humidifier known as College Station, Texas so not fun. I'd be walking to class all dressed to impress in my pleated khaki shorts and braided brown belt, all the while pleading with my hair to fight the frizz. My hair had enough wave that it would curl up on humid days, but not enough to look cute. My roommate had beautiful curly hair, but would straighten it every single day just like I did. I have always loved curly hair and I'd plead with her to wear it curly, but she refused.
I still love curly hair and wish I could wear mine with its natural wave. But I have always had two problems: 1) I've never known how to do it right and haven't asked anyone for help and 2) it's still just enough curl to frizz in humidity, but not enough that I could say my hair is "curly". This past week, I finally experimented. This was my attempt:(you didn't think I'd show you a picture of my hair did you?)
It didn't work. I walked around looking like a fool for a couple of days, noticing every girl with beautiful wavy hair and pleading with my hair to curl pretty already. I'm calling it quits on my attempt at something new because, as much as I want it to be, curly hair is just not me.
Why is it that I always wish I am something that I'm not naturally made to be? OK, you could argue that my hair is naturally wavy, but, then again, you haven't seen the end result of my experiment. I think I was naturally intended to have a flat iron in my hand.
Most people probably think that we pastor's wives don't have insecurities or question what we're called to do or struggle with comparing ourselves to others. I can't speak for all pastor's wives, but it's definitely something I still struggle with, even after all these years. I feel like my life right now is a big question mark and I'm waiting on God for direction. Often in these times, I look around at other women that I admire and think Maybe I should do what she's doing since God is using her in that or I wish I was gifted like her, but I'm just plain old me. It feels an awful lot like the hair situation: trying to be something I'm not or wishing I was something I'm not made to be. If I'm not careful, I dive right in to envy and then am not able to celebrate my sisters or trust that the Lord has good for me.
I still have that mousse sitting on my bathroom counter. I may (or most likely may not) use it again, but it's become a reminder to me in this waiting period to stand firm in what I know God has for me and not to go seeking after all manner of things that I was not made to be or do.