My hair was a mess. It may seem trivial, since it doesn’t compare with the needs of starving orphans in Africa or the struggling pastors sharing God’s words in Asia, but I needed him to do something about my hair.
I didn’t want to worry about my appearance, but the past several hours we’d been through multiple flights from Seattle to Delhi and an evening meeting helping lead worship for a gathering of believers in a school gymnasium. Now on the night train halfway between Delhi and Lucknow, I squinted at the steel mirror in the restroom, concerned about the next morning’s church service and what I’d do about my Einstein mop.
As we clacked down the tracks, I pulled the curtain around my cot and prayed, “I’m sorry to ask this, Lord. I know hair isn’t vital to survival, but you understand that I’m an American woman and my appearance has at least a small degree of importance. I don’t want to scare people. Would you help my hair look OK tomorrow?”
I had to trust God. There was nothing more I could do. Now it was up to him to help me not be an embarrassment to his ministry. I released my anxiety, clung to his peace, and dozed off.
A dear youth pastor, Noel Campbell, had taught us to grow up in our faith by turning to Jesus instead of looking to other sources for our needs. When we asked Noel for advice, he responded with, “Have you prayed about it?” It did me a world of good to talk to Jesus about my concerns, putting them in his hands.
We stepped off the train the next morning, greeted by welcoming flower garlands and smiles. A friend snapped a photo, otherwise I wouldn’t have known that my hair looked far better than when I’d last seen it. The worship time went beautifully, without this American being a distraction at all.
Thank you, Jesus.
“If I had cherished sin in my heart, the Lord would not have listened; but God has surely listened and heard my voice in prayer. Praise be to God, who has not rejected my prayer or withheld his love from me!” (Psalm 66:18-20 NIV).
by Kathy Sheldon Davis