Of bushy brows and vision

I leaned my head back into the U-shape of a hairdresser’s sink underneath a bright fluorescent light.

Her busy hands rinsed my hair in warm water. I closed my eyes and sighed. Nice, I thought.

“So are we waxing your eyebrows today too?” I heard through my reverie as she worked soft conditioner through my strands.

“Um, no,” I said. “Just the color was fine. Thank you.”

My friend Lisa said, “Wait a minute.”

She wandered to where I reclined. By now my eyes were wide open.

“What?” I said.

“Oh girlfriend. You have a bush growing on your forehead. You’re getting a wax.”

So I did, but I really didn’t see the need. However, I could tell a difference when she was done. I looked polished.

A few months later I stopped by a place in a shopping mall at Christmastime to get my nails done. That’s all I had time for.

“You want pedicure too?” the lady asked as she filed away on my nails.

“No. No thank you. This is fine,” I said with a smile.

After a few minutes, she peered at my forehead.

“You want waxing?” She said with a concerned frown between her neat eyebrows. 

Good grief, I thought. Not again.

“No, I really don’t have time today, but thank you.”

“Hmmmmmm. One side is not even with other. You look lopsided.”

I just smiled and shook my head, “no.”

So I spent the rest of my self-conscious afternoon wanting to get home to a mirror and tweezers.

Are my eyes really that bad these days? I am older now, and I wear magnifying glasses to read. I wear contacts to see far away. As I age, I find that women of my decade laugh at ourselves and what we see and don’t see. Like whiskers and stray eyebrows.

The other night I sat around a table in a cozy dining room with a few new friends from church.

These women are my “home group.” We have a lot in common: tough upbringings, raising children who are adults and are now raising their own children, marriages that brought heartache and didn’t last, and the joy of finding ourselves amidst all of life’s stuff anyway.

During a discussion of things we have learned about God throughout our lives, it came about that we have learned a lot.

Would we do some things over again to gain the fruit we now enjoy?

Surprisingly, a lot of us said, "yes." Some had to think about it. Some experiences were too painful and raw to consider.

One woman said that she learned about God’s unfailing faithfulness in a way she probably wouldn’t have otherwise, and that she is grateful. When tough days come her way, she remembers. And she doesn’t worry; she has the benefit of hindsight.

I pondered this.

As we age, our physical vision wanes. But sometimes our spiritual sight becomes 20-20.

This morning I stopped on my life path for a moment. I turned my face backward and looked down 52 years worth of road.

So many twists and turns. So many branches that were side-roads, but ultimately led back to the main path.

I truly can’t say I regret everything. I’ve learned too much. My vision is clearer the older I get. God’s skill and wisdom at work in me is sharper. He worked for my good even though I was blind when He did.

There is a Bible verse that means more now in my older age than when I was young: “Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; but then we shall see [Him] face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know [Him] fully, even as I am fully known.” I Corinthians 12:12

I think this is true this side of heaven as well. I have learned where to keep my vision:

“…let us throw off the sin that so easily entangles and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the Author and Perfecter of our faith…” Hebrews 12:1b-2a

I realized, as I turned my face forward again and took another step on my path, that I am right where I need to be.

My vision is just fine, thank you.

Bushy eyebrows and all.