The Saga of the Shorn: August 2007

Samson did it, albeit it was in reverse.

I'm just making up facetious reasoning for it all now, maybe, but hey.

WARNING: Long post ahead. Skip if you wish. :)

Find me here
Speak to me
I want to feel you
I need to hear you
You are the light
That's leading me
To the place where I find peace again

You are the strength that keeps me walking
You are the hope that keeps me trusting
You are the light to my soul
You are my purpose...you're everything

How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?

You calm the storms and you give me rest
You hold me in your hands you won't let me fall
You steal my heart and you take my breath away
Would you take me in? Take me deeper now?

How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?
And how can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?

Cause you're all I want, You're all I need
You're everything,everything
You're all I want you're all I need
You're everything, everything
You're all I want, you're all I need
You're everything, everything
You're all I want, you're all I need, you're everything, everything

And How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?
How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?

How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?

Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?
Lifehouse | Everything
(Watch this video; it's pretty cool)

This hair/no-hair thing has been on my mind quite a bit these last few days.

So, I attend this rather unique church called Vox Veniae. It's not your typical idea of Sunday morning starched shirts and hymnals, I don't think. (Come check it out if you don't believe me. If you don't like it, I promise you your money back) Last year my church/small group read and discussed Shane Claiborne's Irresistible Revolution over the course of the school year. While I never got around to finishing the book (::embarrassed::), Vox invited him to speak during service one night. Here's a picture Oliver took of him:

The moment he walked in, I kind of braced myself for B.O. My experience with bums on the Drag has taught me that where clothes like this are found, showers are usually not. I was really struck by how he just waltzed into arguably one of the most affluent young churches with immense future potential in some clothing that would make a very in-your-face statement. I forgot his reasoning for his apparel (should I read that book?) - probably something about avoiding sweatshops, being more personable to the street people he's trying to reach, steering away from trends... you know. Me, I would've just "dressed as the Romans dressed." I would very much not have thought the worse of him if he had shown up wearing a ratty T-shirt and jeans. The fact that he chose to make his lifestyle universal in all the walks of life he encounters stood out to me a lot.

This might seem like a slight tangent here, but the other day I was watching the Bourne Ultimatum and kind of got distracted during the brief torture scene flashbacks. Most girls don't like gory films because they don't like the agony of people being abused for their beliefs or jobs or goals. In my arrogance I've always been kinda snotty, thinking how awesome I am for being able to stomach the raw intensity of these scenes and to actually be willing to confront the nitty-gritty aspect of suffering for one's cause. Yeah, that attitude is not a pretty side of my persona I'd like you to see. I've even gone so far as to think, "Why are these people so upset by battle scenes or whatever? It's not like most of them will ever have to endure it. And whether or not they deal with the 'reality,' the fact remains that suffering like this is occurring around the world." Then I'd go on to think about how I might actually have to face torture someday for what I value. I've been pondering this ever since Valerie Plame (and not as seriously, since I was a kid reading Foxe's Book of Martyrs, haha). How far am I willing to suffer for what I believe in?

Last weekend I was a counselor at a youth retreat for the middle/high schoolers of Vox Veniae's sister church, Austin Chinese Church. I wasn't expecting anything special, having been to many religious events in the past. I know how they typically go. Many times people come, expecting to learn something, the speaker hypes them up to an emotional/spiritual point, then at an opportune moment sweeps them all into a frenzy and they all dedicate their life to Christ... ...again and again and again. Tears are shed, hugs are shared, and all go home happy to a flat-soda feeling within a week. Why? Because a lot of the time, they missed the point.

But last week while I was at retreat I got a pretty rude shock. I've told a few people about this, but while sitting though the first two days' worships and sessions, I was fighting this ugly black depression, almost, that would just sit on me like a palpable being. It would throw accusation after accusation at me - "You're a pretty pathetic Christian... you talk about God but you don't read your Bible as much as you should... you're no good at praying... etc. etc. etc." Hey, I can't deny it. It's all true. Then once it got my attention, it would direct me to some other crazy thoughts. I'd see random people sitting with their friends and get eaten up with sudden insane crazy jealousy... "Wow, look at that, you've never had close friendships like that and you never will once you leave here. People always leave you."

But while I was even sobbing at one point from the frustration of not being able to take a mental break, a thought came into my mind... it was like overhearing a whisper. "Hey. God here. I never told you to do this or that for me. I just asked you to give me your life. I didn't ask you to go to China and save the world in my name. I haven't told you you're gonna have to face torture. You silly. Just put me in control."

It was rather humiliating to realize that much as I dislike the concept of torture (too much 24, anyone?), I would prefer it to giving up control of my life. Even to God. Oh crud. Even if I have already been structuring my post-graduation goals around this "going to China and writing about social issues" plan which, ostensibly, was to do God's work. Oh crud. I had a slight Jonah feeling.

I think since last week, I've kind of felt differently about some things. It's like I no longer really mind what I want any more. It's not a "post-retreat high." I've had those (and mind you, they're a fantastic feeling while they last). It's more like how when you down a couple Tylenol and count the seconds until relief, pain doesn't just go on/off like a switch... it sort of fades away so gently that you don't even realize the throbbing headache is gone until you actually stop to think about them. It's... good. After those first two days of mental wrestling, I feel like God helped me clear my mind, get my thoughts off of my own issues and leave me blank/more ready to deal with my girls so I could serve them better. I've been in a constant "check myself" reminder-mode ever since retreat, trying to think about all the little things I've slowly taught myself to believe about me... I am a good person. I want to help others. I want to do this. I want to do that. I'm a good counselor because ---. I give good advice because ---.

You know, I know better than that.

I realized that I've always been ashamed to tell people outright, "I'm a Christian." It's not so much the wording as the possible explanations I'd have to go into. "Yeah, well, I believe... *trails off in ashamed silence* Yeah, no, it's not because my parents made me. No, I... yeah, he really did, um... how do I know? I just, well... okay, so when I was 19, this... yeah, I went..." Wow, I make a sorry excuse for someone who believes that the only reason she has anything to look forward to in the morning is because of this person who she doesn't want to name.

Yes, I was actually bracing myself for future torture Pan's Labyrinth-style for my beliefs, without wanting to say out loud, "I believe that I am a sinner, and that Jesus died on the cross for my sins. I believe that because he wiped clean my slate, and that I will go to heaven when I die... not because of what I can do for me, him, or anyone... but because of what he did for me in love." I just... don't want people to think I'm a freak, you know?

Yes, I am that stupid. I still am. Whatever made me think that if I wasn't willing to say it now when all I risk is at best social ostracization, I'd say it when I'm staring a blunt blade straight in the eyes?

COMING back to hair... I apologize for the incoherent bunny trail; I wanted to explain about something that I experienced at retreat

As far as my understanding of Scripture goes, it's not a sin. It can be seen as a symbol of shame, but even that is kind of out of context. What is glory, anyway? What is shame? And maybe a better question, why don't I deserve shame?

I will tell you what is shame. Think of this. I don't think people in their right minds like being hung up naked and bleeding and in pain in front of literally everyone they know. I don't think people like being tortured all night in an effort to make them deny their very essence. I don't think people like dying because of other people's mistakes. I whine when I'm thirsty, but I've never been anywhere near death for it (something my mother used to like to tell me when I would complain on long car trips). I don't think people like sunburns in general, let alone scalding hot desert noon sun on ripped, torn flesh. And while my personal experience with piercings has been limited to vaccinations, ear-piercing and a couple pencils my brother broke in my hand, I can tell you they weren't my favorite times. I would find it safe to assume that nails through my hands and feet would be excruciating agony. I don't like being made fun of, so I tend to hide my most embarrassing moments and physical flaws while possible. On the other hand, this person's blood dripped down his dying feet while people cheered and mocked and abused him.

Throw all those elements together, and you've got this person I don't want to verbally acknowledge. Because I don't want to be called a Jesus Freak.

Oh, did I mention that those fatal mistakes that got him there - they were mine? It kind of puts shame in a whole new perspective, doesn't it? If I'm not ashamed, all the more shame to me.

Once again, I digress; back to hair. Yes, I do know that Corinthians calls a woman's hair her glory. But I think this will be a good reminder to me, first and foremost, that I have no glory of my own. I deserve nothing, and have been given everything. Why shouldn't I wear my shame in public for all to see? And what better imagery and reminder that Christ covered my shame with his love?

Why do we frown on girls with no hair anyway? Is it the connotations? Especially in Austin, I think a girl with no hair must be a punk. That's so not sexy. She must be a lesbian. She must be a rebel. She must be a Bad Girl. (I was brought up to avoid being a Bad Girl, but trust me, I found my ways anyway. Most of them are less-than-cool to recount)

In an ideal world, bad girls would never exist. In this current fallen world, they do exist. Why did I have the good fortune to be on the better side of the deal? Why do I deserve to not be dying of cancer right now? Why, even, do I have a nice full head of long black hair? If I really believe that God gave me all these things by grace, why am I not willing to acknowledge that?

I think we judge people by their appearances far too often. I know I do. A girl who gets pregnant out of wedlock is automatically mentally labeled a slut, even while we haughty church people tote her back and forth from crisis pregnancy centers and drone homilies about the sanctity of life. People, we're missing the point. Why save a potential incoming life if we're gonna throw away the one standing in front of us? Why would a baby be worth saving if its mother is not? Don't get me wrong - you know I go ga-ga for babies. I just really think that in the scheme of things, God would sooner forgive the girl who undergoes an abortion if it leads her to him, than the people who hound her to perform their actions merely to soothe their own hypocritical consciences.

I know I think like that a lot, perhaps on a less extreme scale. I want to break down my personal boundaries and comfort zones, and since I don't plan to try out drugs or wild random sex or even drop out of school to achieve this, I think walking around without hair will be drastic enough a beginning. :D I want to put myself in other people's shoes, and this will be a pretty quick route to seeing something different in the mirror every morning.

You know, if people want to walk past me and think, "That girl must be pretty messed-up" purely because I have no hair, that's okay. I probably don't need their approbation anyway. If they're willing to stop me and say, "Hey dude, what made you do that?" That's already more than most of us do for others every day.

I know this sounds corny, but I'm gonna hope that most people reading this (if they've gotten this far :D) are not as cynical and sarcastic as I often am (because I would totally call this post corny). But even if they do, it's okay by me because I want to be honest. Today during church Gid, our pastor, talked about how as Christians, we should not pursue wisdom and truth as a standard for morality but as the person of Christ, because he redefines what makes right and wrong for us.

Back in the day people who wanted to make vows before God would commit to three things. I'm not going to bore you, but it's here for you to read. So I guess I'm kind of going in reverse on the hair thing, but I guess the decision comes at a good time in my life for me. I really want to live my commitment to God out more fully. I can't think of anything that will be a more vivid reminder for a good many days on end. I'm a visual person, so if I ingrain it into my mind enough, I hope "Am I willing to follow God and God alone?" will come to mind when I see my head stubble. :)

I'm going to think more about it as my deadline approaches... but I think that, having read that short reminder about the point of vows of commitment, it would be pretty dumb of me to say, "I'm going to do this physical action and tie it to a commitment with God," and not be willing to give up something else that I'm actually attached to, such as bad habits or whatever. I'll probably be refining the details of my commitment but I think I'll keep that personal. :)

I find it a humorous side detail that everyone who supports me, pretty much, lives in or is from Austin. I wonder what that says about our "liberality?" :D Hehehe. I love you all.

Mmm... I don't really have a good solid reason beyond "I want to do it." It's a voluntary kinda thing. Yes, it's totally true that I don't need to do this to support cancer patients, but that's not really the point.

I was also thinking that a lot of women lose their hair without a choice because of diseases and such. I hope what I do won't be seen as a mockery of their pain, I guess... I want to learn to be more compassionate, I think. I want to know how they feel. I've whined a lot about feeling like an outcast as a teenager, but apart from being incredibly dorky I didn't actually have any glaring physical deformities that would make people do a double-take when they saw me or anything like that. Yeah, Austin may not be the best city to make that sort of an experiment since it wouldn't be that unusual, haha, but that in and of itself might be a comfort. :P

I've also been thinking about the comments that have been slightly less than positive (which don't bother me, btw; I'm not really expecting anything less). Yeah, I think if I were doing this purely from a "I wonder what it's like" mentality, I would back out right now. It's not worth the experiment time. I want to learn to be more compassionate toward others, and how better than to experience what could be one of life's biggest humiliations for some?

But I do want to know why everyone is so against it. I know I'm not going to look good. :P That's why I'm trying to make sure I have all of my social commitments out of the way. ;) But I guess this is the challenge I want to counter to you... you ask me "Why." Let me ask you, "Why not?"

But maybe people will come up to me and ask, and I hope at least some of this incredibly verbose blog will spill out. The truth is, I have a ton of good reasons to do this. Am I willing to be honest about them?

Countdown: 27 days

P.S. I thought I'd answer a couple questions I've gotten...

Yes, shave = completely gone, no stubble, bald shiny scalp. :D
Yep, I will be very happy if you would be willing to donate money once the hair's gone and I've selected a charity. I'm still leaning toward the ASK Foundation.