My hair dresser is a twenty-something, non-practicing Catholic who believes in Jesus. He’s also gay and, surprisingly, very conservative. Every time I plop in his chair wearing the salon’s unflattering black smock and he devilishly eyes my mop to see what creative thing he can do with it, we immediately launch into discussions about the relationship of spirituality and the realities of life. In between “Make it a little blonder,” and “How about some streaks here?” I tell him about my church, and he tells me about the gay community. We talk about politics, the twelve disciples, abortion, and the Bible. Faith always lies at the core of every conversation.
He did my hair one year on the National Day of Prayer. I kinda made a big deal about it, and encouraged him to pray. He admitted it was a great idea and told me he would. “Yeah, I just need to talk to God. Tell him what’s going on. I mean God knows and see everything we do anyway. He sees us poo, for Pete’s sake.”
While that was certainly not an image I wanted to capture in my head, I thought about its truth. Our lives are pretty much an open book to God. He sees when we say no to temptation. He sees the affair we are having. He sees the cheerful heart we have when we give in secret. He sees our hypocrisy when we don’t practice what we preach. He sees our dark secrets, our good intentions, our tries, our failures, our victories, our defeats. Because of this, there are opportunities to either enter into an honest and open relationship with him, or to run away like Adam and Eve, leaving a trail of fig leaves in the dust. Sadly, I believe many folks do the latter.
If the truth can really set us free, it would serve our ultimate good to peel away the facade and purge our secrets, especially the ones that are chipping away at our sanity. Isn't that the point of believing in a God of love...of mercy...of grace? If he can't handle the messy parts of our lives, I don't think having faith in him matters at all.
Not that I have had (or have) any secrets of course. I'm perfect.
And a great liar:)
He did my hair one year on the National Day of Prayer. I kinda made a big deal about it, and encouraged him to pray. He admitted it was a great idea and told me he would. “Yeah, I just need to talk to God. Tell him what’s going on. I mean God knows and see everything we do anyway. He sees us poo, for Pete’s sake.”
While that was certainly not an image I wanted to capture in my head, I thought about its truth. Our lives are pretty much an open book to God. He sees when we say no to temptation. He sees the affair we are having. He sees the cheerful heart we have when we give in secret. He sees our hypocrisy when we don’t practice what we preach. He sees our dark secrets, our good intentions, our tries, our failures, our victories, our defeats. Because of this, there are opportunities to either enter into an honest and open relationship with him, or to run away like Adam and Eve, leaving a trail of fig leaves in the dust. Sadly, I believe many folks do the latter.
If the truth can really set us free, it would serve our ultimate good to peel away the facade and purge our secrets, especially the ones that are chipping away at our sanity. Isn't that the point of believing in a God of love...of mercy...of grace? If he can't handle the messy parts of our lives, I don't think having faith in him matters at all.
Not that I have had (or have) any secrets of course. I'm perfect.
And a great liar:)
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3 comments:
loved reading this!
Laura
just recently i realized when things weren't so good with me, or i wasn't 'on track', I would push God aside until I got my act together. And once I did, i would knock back on his door and say - here i am! good as new. i was always moving towards him or pulling away.
I never realized to actually reach out to him as i'm getting my act together. awesome blog!!
freeing, gutsy...and true. thanx aj.
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