Which is why I'm relating this story to you despite the fact that just after it happened, I told the Lord, "This is NOT going in my blog." But here I am, having been told otherwise. I sure hope He's not teasing me when He says there's somebody out there who needs to hear this.
Here goes:
I got a haircut a month or so ago. It was (Lord, I'm saying this in pure obedience) the first paid haircut I'd had for several years. Due to dire lack of resources, I couldn't rationalize or stretch to even a bargain haircut. As far as I know, no one knew this (until now -- thanks, Lord). I, who am the least likely person ever to give anyone a haircut, somehow managed to trim and sometimes even cut my own hair for over three years. I even got compliments a couple of times from unsuspecting people.
Fast forward to last Sunday afternoon. I needed a haircut again and could have gone for one at the bargain place this week, but I didn't have time for that, so I said, "Oh, whatever -- I know how to do this." I even got cocky and did it without a mirror. (I had done this before occasionally and it had worked out.)
It seemed to be going quite well. Finally I got up to go to the mirror and said, "OK, Lord -- let's see how we did." It was actually fine... except for one very noticeable spot, much shorter than the rest.
That's it, I said, now I'll have to get it cut. It was Sunday, but this really did seem like one of those "falls into a ditch" moments, so I headed out to the hair place. In the car, gratitude suddenly overwhelmed me, because even though I'm still not out of my financial ditch (I live on grad student pay), things are night-and-day better than they were even several months ago.
I arrived at the hair salon. Sunday: CLOSED. "Oh, You really do have quite the sense of humor," I said.
As I was driving home, it hit me: I had just been hugged.
First of all, I realized that the fact that I (world's least likely person to give anyone a haircut) had managed to give myself relatively decent haircuts for over three years had nothing to do with me. It was the Lord. It was a special dispensation, so to speak.
Secondly, I realized that He was telling me: "I'm moving you forward -- don't go back."
Thirdly -- and this is the part where I felt like a wife whose husband has just bought her a gorgeous bouquet of flowers -- I realized that He was telling me He was in the process of making me more beautiful, inside and out.
Fourthly... well, you may be wondering about the end of the story. I got home and said, "Well, Lord, I messed up. But whatever I mess up, You know how to fix. Will you help me fix this horrible haircut?" He did. And it's actually kind of cute.
One more lesson from this: never try to predict or contain Jesus. He may do something one way one day and in a completely different way the next day. He knows exactly what we need in the moment. For a while He was apparently cutting my hair for me and didn't even always need a mirror. Now, He's moved on. If I try going backwards, I'll be on my own.
But who would want to?