My mane has been a wild thing. When I was young, it was big, it was unruly, it was wild, it was scary, it was a beast.
I had long hair when I was little. I also used to love to chew gum at this time. I would have gum in my mouth so much that sometimes I would forget to spit it out at night before going to bed. Bad thing! The next morning somehow that piece of wet, gooey gum went from my mouth right into my hair-ugh! We would try freezing the gum with an ice cube and then try to peel it off. This would work some, but we would always have to cut a little out. My long hair used to get so tangled that when I was in one of my younger grades, my mom sat me on a little red stool in the kitchen saying I needed a trim. I got suspicious when I felt the cold scissors on the back of my neck. You know the famous line…”oh what a tangled web we weave?” My mother probably could have been heard saying this about my hair. “Oh what a tangled mess I weave, braid, pick and brush.” That is probably why when I looked in the mirror after my “trim”, I saw that I had gone from waist length hair to a pixie. I was a tad bit sad, but I was a little girl, so I got over it pretty quickly.
I grew and so did my hair. As a teen-ager, I had a love-hate relationship with this thick, frizzy mane of mine. I could fix it beautifully but one step out in the
wind and it was all gone. I quickly learned the Oklahoma hair doo that was so popular, buns and braids. But my hair was so heavy this would give me a headache. Oklahoma
I longed to have straight, shiny, sleek, smooth hair that when wind blown, afterwards would lie back down in place. All my friends had this perfect hair. I used to plead with the Lord, “Why can’t I have that kind of hair?”
Hairdressers used to tell me all the time that lots of women paid big money to get the body and curls I naturally had. These women would tease their hair and I had to tame mine down. I would have given money to have their problem.
Then came high school in the late 70’s-1980. I bet you can guess, yep, I had the Farrah Fawcett doo. I loved this hair style but all those feathers were hard to keep up with. The right side would flip up, the left side curl down. I had a tower of feathers on top of my head. To keep all those feathers in place, I used LOTS of hairspray. No man could have run his fingers through my hair at the time, and yet, I still got me a man!
Yes, I have the right tools to use on my hair now. But more importantly I have the tools God has given me in His Word to be more at peace, at ease, and comfortable in my own skin, and hair.
One of God’s tools is scripture. They tell me He is in control, so I don’t need to worry and fret. He is always with me, I am never alone. He will qualify me for whatever He calls me to do. He forgives so I never have to brood over past sins. He gives me the power to forgive when I need to. He gives me boldness when I need it. He always loves me, I never have to feel unloved. He empowers me, gives me peace beyond understanding and love I can hardly fathom. He gave me this crown of tresses and I have learned to be grateful and thankful for it. I'm even told when these tresses turn gray, it will be a crown of glory!
If my hair became an uncontrollable wild thing again, it would be ok. There are always hats. What’s in my heart is much more important than what is on top of my head. I want to be a wild thing for Jesus. I want to be wildly loving for Jesus. I want to be wildly serving for Him. I want to be on fire for Him. I may not look wild on the outside but inside is a different story. That kind of wild thing does not need to be tamed.