Have you ever cut your own hair before? Not just a few dead ends or a small fix to your already-styled haircut. But actually taking a pair of scissors and cutting inches off your strands to obtain a completely new, fresh,and lighter look.
Have you ever taken proverbial scissors to life before? Not just the small fixes, but taking scissors to the dead ends and unnecessary length that you’ve allowed to grow in areas of your life that you are recognizing are no longer honoring the Lord.
I stood there in front of my mirror tonight, scissors in hand, and contemplated a strategy plan. Like many other things in my life, this plan had taken months of thought and avoidance. I had originally told my roommate that I wanted to cut my hair back in January and she stared at me, swallowed, and said “ok…good luck!” with hesitation in her eyes.
The “cheering section” for this bold move seemed to be on furlough. But I needed it. My hair was way past it’s due date for a trim and the split-ends, frayed bits, and uneven length were sobbing their story into my mirror every morning.
So were those other parts of my life. The ones that also needed a strategy plan. The split-ends that needed mending, the frayed bits that needed to be cut instead of held onto, the uneven length that just kept getting more noticeable…
And, with my hair, I kept losing the few ounces of bravery I had mustered up and would start back at the “thinking and wondering if I could actually do it” stage. I would even strategize where I would make the first cut and how I would make sure the outcome was good. But I never once touched scissors and never once acted on my impulses.
Weeks went by and I can’t count the times I would tell someone: a co-worker, friend, roommate that I was going to cut my hair.that.day…but to no avail. Those plans of action, strategies, dreams, and wanderlusts continued (even into this evening) warring within me of the reasons I shouldn’t do this and the arguments against them.
It’s going to be ridiculous: who cares, it can be fixed.
I’m going to make an unfixable mistake: that isn’t going to kill you. It will grow back.
I’m too chicken. It’s too difficult. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m going to mess it up. I won’t like the way it looks….the list kept going on.
But, as I said earlier, I was in front of the mirror with my scissors in hand. Sectioning off pieces of hair. pinning parts back. bringing the first section around with a comb, straightening it out, raising my scissor-clad hand towards it…
After attempt four (or twenty), I made the first two-inch cut and knew I couldn’t look back…it was time to cut off the dead ends, fix the frays, trim the edges, and start this new season with a fresh, trimmed, and manageable hair-cut.
And now, after the proverbial fourth (or twentieth) cut from my life—which took months to accomplish—I know that I can’t look back. It was time to leave those dead-ends, frayed pieces, and uneven edges in the past in order to start a new season of my life with a fresh, trimmed, and ready-for-His-plan attitude.
