Who I Really Am

     At this moment, I’m waiting in my car for Jenny to text and say, “Come In”.   I’m ready, and Jenny’s going to lead me. I’m beginning a symbolic physical return to mirroring the true reflection of myself that I garnered while, once again, walking around my backyard lake.   This time, circling the lake evolved into my examining the inner misconceptions around which my life revolves — Who am I?  Who have I been? Who do I want to be? Above and beyond all, WHOSE am I?   Let me only say, the raft upon which I’ve been floating through life needed tug boat towing out of some mud traps.

     The lake circling journey that initiated this voyage began weeks ago – a pittance of time compared to the duration most likely required to attain the fulfillment of this expedition.   This is one finish line that can only be crossed if I’m dedicated to going back to the starting line, unpack my weighty suitcase, recalculate my course and unapologetically arrive at the finish line not in perfect, prime illusion but in imperfect physical appearance from the wear and tear of the journey. 

     Let me cut to the chase and announce I’m not referring to awarded trophies but rewarding roots.   I’m not talking about golden crowns covering my locks but unlocking, and not covering, the worthiness of my silvery white roots.   Confused???   To understand, let’s continue going back to the starting line.

     I’ve never been one to care what others think of me, my dreams, or how uniquely I see God’s hand and hear His voice.   But, wow, I did a 180 degree turn when it came to appearing exactly as my Hubby envisioned his wife needed to be.   Thus, from the moment we started dating, my premature, nearly invisible, few white strands of hair had to be dyed.   Being seven years older than Hubby, I labored under the horror that one might ever think he had married an older lady!!!   Didn’t matter that at 40, Hubby went completely bald; my full head of hair continued as the benchmark for appearance.  Even more sadly, after Hubby went home to heaven, I was still enslaved to others’ opinion in this regard.

     Fast forward to the slowdown of the past few months.   For me, so much of what was automatic in my life found time to be re-examined and, praise God, re-evaluated.   In honesty, God convicted me of much vanity I’d never recognized as such.   So, let’s talk about white roots!!!

     Roots are defined as: a) the basic cause, source or origin of something, b) the essential substance or nature of something, c) a scion or descendant.   From this, my basic deduction sees my roots as both who I am and WHOSE I am.   Who I am (or you are, too) is never to be thought of as not good enough or unworthy.   God creates each of us different, yet individually special.   If we fail to believe (or let ourselves be blinded to) the real beauty God instilled in each of us, then, more than likely, we will also fail to know God forgives our sins and does not judge our worth through impossible perfection.   If I (or you) fall victim to measuring our worth through attaining physical perfection on this earth, then my (and your) existence will be rhinestone studded and worldly, not Bethlehem starred and heaven bound.  

     Should I ever be rooted in the color of my hair over my root as God’s heir?   Absolutely not.   Ouch!!!   Sure felt convicted of being so concerned about my outward looks that for eons I overlooked the message of my inner roots. 

     The years of life, or so we are told, bring forth wisdom.   I’m currently chuckling a little as I can’t help but wonder if those initial few stands of almost invisible white hair were a message from God that His wisdom was from what my roots were meant to both grow and SHOW.   And there I was working hard to hide them!!!    

     Why does age turn hair white?   Maybe, science has an explanation; but, as for me, I’ll deduce a God centered theory.   Could it be that as God leads us through life, we exchange the abundance of superficial colors of the world for the absence of all worldly colors and the pure reflection of God’s light?   Brain thinking is transformed into soul wisdom.

     Subsequent to this line of thinking, I found myself becoming sensitive to so many being obsessed with their hairstylists being shuttered for the moment.   Maybe, I saw too much of the old me in others’ appearance focus.   Granted, I was no longer worried I needed to camouflage my roots, but seeing others repeat my mistake felt a little like the sting of salt in my old wound.  How many of you, too, are wounded by others’ judgment and try to, not only, color over what others dislike in us, but also, our being wounded and feeling unworthy?   Why is it so hard for us to see ourselves as God views us and not how other humans surface paint us to be?

     Back to the moment of me sitting in my car, waiting for this journey to begin.   Like most women, I love my hairstylist.   Yep, Jenny is the gifted artist who works magic on my locks, but that’s not why she holds a special spot in my heart.   Jenny is, first and foremost, a daughter of God whose fingers might color and cut the perfect hair style, but her greatest (and God given) talent is the caring love that flows from her soul.   Thus, Jenny wasn’t surprised when I declared my resolve to dissolve the dye and start growing the roots with which God graced my life.   Instead, side by side, she will lead me through this journey.  

     Not all, however, are as wise as Jenny.   Upon learning the roots of my new journey, others declare me crazy.   Shocked, some even inquire have I even thought how I will look?   My reply —  Like who I really am….