I am browsing through the beauty section of my favourite neighbourhood supermarket, the salesgirl greets me cheerfully before turning back to attend to her customer. She knows me well enough to know that I know where to find everything I normally pick up at her corner.
While bending over to scoop up some bath soap, I hear her try to explain to the lady that a particular product could help her hair look a certain way. I don’t hear the lady’s response because I knock over half a shelf of soap as I straighten up, but I do notice she is surreptitiously gesturing at my head.
Anytime my hair is out, I am still amazed by the attention it gets. Especially when I don’t think it’s looking hot at all. I have formed friendships over this hair. Random women just stop me to ask questions, “Sorry, please how did you achieve this look?” And then a hair tutorial/seminar/lecture begins. This is serious stuff, we don’t play with our hair. To outsiders, naturalistas (I hate that label BTW) speak a different language. So naturally (see what I did there?) I expect the lady to ask me for some advise seeing as she seems lost on which product to buy to order to begin her journey. In fact the salesgirl appears to be nudging her in my direction to ask all the difficult questions because she just sells the stuff she doesn’t use it.
So I’m waiting, expecting…
She doesn’t ask.
She just keeps on talking about me as if I am not there. As I move on to pay for my goods, I can still see her trying to figure out which shampoo I picked from the shelf. I pay and leave.
Now I’m just thinking, isn’t this me with God sometimes. Instead of asking Him for the way, I barely acknowledge Him and then go on to lean on my own understanding. Chai, the more I think about it I can see God in my mind’s eye just giving me the same internal “yimu” that I sent her way. If you don’t ask, how will you receive? Sometimes I feel the matter is too small, He has more important things to deal with, such as the 10 other things I asked Him for this morning. But then the reality is that all my problems are human problems, so they are all small to Him. I didn’t help her out, because I wanted to be acknowledged, which is why I’m sure He just stands aside to watch my foolishness. I thought it was rude to talk around me like that (Imagine that, small me). But then she never came and now she’s off somewhere probably damaging her hair. I know it’s just hair but I now see why the simplest tasks could end up being so difficult when I don’t come to Him first.
Dear Lord, teach me to trust you in the seemingly mundane things so that I may as well lean on you to move my mountains.