I’ll never forget the hairdresser’s expression. She’d just asked what I wanted done with my hair, and I’d said, “Whatever you’d like. I’m a clean slate for you to do what you think best. I trust you.”
Her eyes grew large in excitement, and I had an idea of what she’d looked like as girl on Christmas morning. Already, I could see her looking at my hair and calculating all the possibilities.
Most of the time, I go into the hair salon requesting a trim. (Actually, my regular request sounds something like, “Tame the beast.”) I gave up hoping for a new style years ago when salon after salon told me there wasn’t much they could do with my hair. Maybe my thick hair scared them. That, or my insistence that the word volume to me is as good as a four-letter word.
But I’d finally reached the point of letting go. An hour or two after declaring my head a clean slate, and after a fair bit of Pinterest searching—the hairdresser, after all, wanted to know what I liked—I stood from the chair a new person. A bundle of hair sat on the floor. I barely recognized the person in the mirror.
And I loved it. Both of us, in fact, were ecstatic with the result.
Later on, as I reflected on the day, I realized something. How often had I walked into a hair salon before acting the expert, telling the hairdresser what I thought was best based off my own experience? What delight it brought my hairdresser to hear that I trusted her skills, knowledge, and artistry, tacitly admitting I didn’t know what was best and was open to things I’d never considered.
In the same way, I realized, I often tell God how He should handle my life. How much more pleasure would both of us have if I admitted I don’t know what is best and that His skill, knowledge, and artistry are far superior to anything I could plan myself? Just as I left that hair salon happy that I’d risked a little control, I can confidently say trusting my life to God’s expertise is freeing.
That’s not to say it’s not scary. Like that first snip when—whack!—you now have bangs, surrender is not a millpond of the warm and fuzzies. It’s more like white-water rafting, as your mind resolves to surrender and your heart freaks out. Or as your heart cries out for God’s control but your mind goes crazy, calculating all the potential losses. When sin nature mixes with the current of God’s sanctification, the result is not what most would consider peaceful. But that’s okay. Surrender isn’t meant to be easy…but it is always worthwhile.
So today, I encourage you to let go. Tell the Lord, “Do whatever You want today. I trust You.” And keep praying it. After all, an entire life is lived one day at a time. I know God will delight in crafting something unexpected, even if it does take a few snips. The result will be exciting…because it was done by the Master Craftsman.
And just imagine how His face will light up with joy as you yield control to Him.