Going Gray

My hair is gray.
If I really wanted to be snobbish, I could say it is salt and pepper.
I could simply say that it has highlights of gray.
I could say it frames my face.

I could say all I want to soften the truth, but my hair is gray.
I have had people ask me in a store where I get my hair highlighted.
I should say, God.
I answer; it’s my natural color.

I smile thinking that some people want to mimic what other people want to cover.
Covering my gray is not an option.
Ask the girl who cuts my hair and she will tell you.
I went through a season of indecision.

She promised she would let me know if she thought I should do something.
She never did.
Either she was being terribly diplomatic or the gray just became a part of me.
I think it is a bit of both.

I remember when I began to go gray.
I had a three-year-old and a one-year-old and we were selling our first house.
My husband was away for two weeks at a conference.
I was dealing with children and realtors during the winter months.

I noticed my gray one morning.
I called it my skunk line, since that is what it looked like to me.
I was too busy with the children and the house to think of anything else.
Then when we moved, I had a miscarriage a few months later.

Coloring my hair was the last thing on my mind.
Life happened.
More children came.
The skunk line grew into a frame around my face.

I debated on and off about coloring my hair, but I didn’t want the hassle.
This was me.
This was the woman I was becoming.
Maybe I grayed earlier than most, but I began to embrace it.

It has been established that I never leave the house without lipstick.
That splash of color is so important to me.
I was always a fan of scarves, but they became even more of a mainstay.
I gave away all the things that were colors I could no longer wear.

I embraced the natural process of going gray.
I remember the alternative.

I was in high school.
I was a brunette.
It was the music of the Beach Boys that defined the summer.
It was the time of sunbathing using baby oil and tin foil reflectors.

No one used sunscreen or if you did, there was only one kind.
It was in a brown bottle and had a unmistakable smell.
If you really wanted a tan, you literally fried in oil.
If you were fair skinned like me, you only became one shade: red.

We all did it.
We all bought baby oil by the gallons it seemed.
We all fell asleep as we listened to California Girls and stayed in the sun far too long.
Some came back to school on Monday bronze and tan; others came in red as a lobster.

Right around that time a hair product came on the market.
Sun In it was called.
Just spray it on your hair and the sun will take care of the rest.
You were guaranteed blonde highlights.

I bought some.
I sprayed it on.
It worked if you were a fan of orange.
I thought it looked great; it didn’t.

A few years later, a product came on the market called Quiet Touch.
You mixed a gloppy mess and literally painted it on your hair.
It smelled like ammonia.
It was guaranteed to give you natural highlights.

It did, except you couldn’t see the back of your own head.
Highlighted areas were conspicuously missing since you couldn’t reach back that far.
Some areas had more of the mixture than others.
The highlights came out uneven.

Then there were perms and body waves, curling irons, and blow dryers.
My poor hair didn’t know what it was.
I felt that it was screaming for attention.
It was begging to be left alone.

So I did; I left it alone.
I just embraced the color, the natural waves, and the paleness of my skin.
I was never going to be what Madison Avenue said I should be.
It was me and that was just fine.

Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained by a righteous life. (Proverbs 16:31)

Often you hear people say, see these gray hairs; I’ve earned every one of them.
Or a parent may say to a child, you’re giving me gray hair.
Neither statement is true and in fact the latter can be hurtful to a child.
God has a different idea.

The righteous life is the wise life that promotes longevity so says R.C. Sproul.
The person gains the respect of those around them because they are older.
At least that is the way God designed.
God expects each of us to show respect for those who are older than us.

We have forgotten.
Why do we need to talk to that older person?
What can they possibly understand about my life?
We live in two different worlds.

So we dismiss them.
We fail to seek their counsel.
We have the preconceived notion that they must be boring.
Nothing could be further from the truth.

Gray hair is not earned; it just happens naturally.
Gray hair is a symbol of getting older but it is a blessing to have lived so long.
Gray hair is looked down upon in a culture that seeks the fountain of youth.
Gray hair is distinguished in men but often seen as aging in women.

Who says?
God sure doesn’t.
That gray hair is a crown.
I like that; I am wearing a crown.

I have embraced the inevitable.
I am getting older and with that come many changes.
However, with age comes wisdom and experience.
If we are in Christ, we have His wisdom and His righteousness.

That crown of splendor will be laid at His feet one day.
It is not a crown to brag about.
It is a crown to be humbled by.
It is a crown that signifies the long life that God has allowed you to have.

Not a long life to amass things and position and status.
Rather, a long life to serve Him.
A long life to make Him known.
A long life so that others can see what a long life lived for Him looks like.

Embrace that gray.
You are crowned.

 

2 responses to “Going Gray”

1. Love it Gina!! And yes I remember the debates of what to do??? You look beautiful inside and out!

   Reply

   • Thanks to you, Jen! We have had so many conversations as I sat in the chair while you cut and styled my hair. We still have good conversations about the Lord, about life, and about our children. You are special to me. You are a good mother to your sons. Your husband is blessed.
     Gina

     Reply