“When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” 1 Corinthians 13:11-13 (NIV)
When I was a child, I struggled with my self-image and my self-esteem. I didn’t like what I saw when I looked in the mirror. I was born with naturally curly hair and raised in a humid climate that often created a halo of frizz on my head.
I now realize that my curly hair is a blessing. However, as a teenager growing up in the 60s, I was very sensitive about my wild mane.
My locks earned me the nickname Curly Ann. I hated that name, even if it was bestowed with affection by an uncle. I was very sensitive about my hair.
I coveted sleek, straight tresses that flowed around my head when it was tossed over my shoulder to impress a member of the opposite sex. I wanted hair like Cher and other stars portrayed on the cover of popular magazines.
In the days before hair-straightening tools and salon-style straightening products, girls with curly hair didn’t have many options. I remember the first time I convinced my mother to use a chemical straightening product on my hair. Although it tamed my locks for a while, it was only a temporary fix.
Forty years later, I still battle my naturally curly hair. It has a mind of its own. My arsenal of hair care products and equipment rival the Pentagon’s store of weapons. However, I’ve come to accept that it is part of who I am.
God is probably smiling at me as I go to war with my hair each morning. No matter how hard I try to subdue my curls, they eventually return to their natural state; however, my thick, naturally curly hair makes me unique.
Uniqueness is part of God’s plan. Before we were born, He chose every detail of our bodies, including our hair. He even knows the very number of hairs on our head.
As my relationship with Him has grown, I have come to realize how much He loves me, just the way I am. I now look in the mirror and see a reflection of His creation instead of an image that society dictates with its multitude of “perfect” models on glamour magazine covers.
When I stepped through the looking glass, I began to acknowledge the person in the mirror. I saw myself through His eyes. What I see is love and acceptance.
Because I did not fit in with the world’s definition of beauty, I felt unworthy. As I have come to know my Savior, I now understand that my self-worth is rooted in Him—and there is no greater love.