Going gray has turned out to be one of the scariest decisions I've ever made. There's no promise on how things will turn out--I could wind up looking like Jamie Lee Curtis (in my dreams) or (cough) like someone's great grandma. At only 48, I don't exactly qualify as elderly, yet I can't help but wonder if that's how I'll be perceived soon...all because I stopped buying Loreal.
Now that gray hair is taking up a shocking 1/3 of my head, it feels like I'm walking around with a silent announcement: Hi. I've been fooling everyone all along, and this is how I really look. I think to a degree we can all relate to this. Think about the last time you rushed out to the grocery store without makeup, then inevitably ran into three (fantastic looking, pulled together) friends. That's sort of how I feel most the time.
I keep reminding myself that it's just a temporary, awkward phase.
As I endure the slow process of growing out my gray hair, I'm relieved that it's taking time. In an odd way, it's sort of like becoming pregnant. At first, you don't see anything at all. Eventually, there's no hiding it. And there's plenty of time to get used to the idea.
God works in our lives much the same way. He changes us gradually. Much of His work is hidden at first. Of course, miracles still occur, and when they do, I rejoice. But the miraculous aside, He is a God of the process. And the next time life feels awkward and uncomfortable, or I'm frustrated because I'm not sure how things are going to turn out, I'll try to remember that.