The Glory of (finally!) Going Grey

It happened sometime in May. I did my morning meet-and-greet in the mirror as usual, “Hey Leslie, rise and shine! Another day!” Then I lean in closer, “Oh bother, already?”

 My grey hair was emerging from my drugstore hair color just 10 days after the last hit.  we talked.

“Okay, go to Walmart, get the box.” Heavy sigh.

“Wait.” The glass-girl’s eyes go big. “WHO says you have to color it?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“You don’t HAVE to color your hair.”

“But I’m going to color my hair till I’m 93. Like Willa. I always said so. She looked great. No one would guess she was that old.”

“When you’re 93 why wouldn’t you want to just be 93? And—now that you’re turning 65, why not be a glad 65?”

“After 24 years of coloring my hair, I can stop right now?”

“Yep.”

My reflection was right. Why didn’t I know I could do that? (Did I think I could stay looking 16 all my life? (Though people often guessed me at 13. See photo . ..)

So 8 months ago I ditched the dye. And here I am now, utterly white and grey in the front, pepper and salt in the back.

I am gloriously happy about it. And this too has shocked me.

I thought I would hate the transition---that dreaded skunk line. That I would be embarrassed. That I would cringe when I looked in the mirror. That I would constantly be tempted to return to my more youthful look. After all, I am as vain as the next person.

I thought I might hate the results at the end of the ordeal. Who knew what my natural hair would do? I didn’t trust it.

I thought I might look and feel old. When I told a friend at Safeway I was growing my hair out, she replied, “Oh Leslie, you’re going to look so much older!”   I nodded, knowing she was right.

 

But I did it anyway. And none of this has happened. Or rather, some of it has happened. The looking older part for sure. Which means I’m giving something up. I’ve always looked younger than my age. People often guessed me a decade younger than I was. I liked it. It felt good, like I was winning the race against time.  But now, the jig is up, or rather, I’ve stopped dancing it.

I recently learned that you could go to a salon and get fat transferred from one part of your body to your face, even to the back of your hands so your tendons and knuckles won’t show so much. And why would someone do this? So people wouldn’t guess their actual age. Because when people know your actual age they might think you---Out-of-date? Out-of-touch? Irrelevant? Ladies and gentlemen, we’re in charge of our relevance. No one makes you irrelevant without you letting them.

But I’m not like Ann Lamott or others who are so age and body-giddy that they’ve named their thighs and breasts. That they can stand naked in the mirror thanking God for every bit of their thickened vein-ier post-menopausal body. We don’t all have to be so body positive, as long as we’re God-positive. I’m positive that God loves me, lumps, varicose veins, arthritis, bursitis and all but I still don’t have to cheer it.

I’ve heard some compliments on my new grey hair but not everyone likes it. My husband is still “adjusting.” A few from my family-of-origin don’t care for it. A friend on Facebook begged me, “Oh please Leslie, color your hair back!” (She’s still my friend.)

And all of it is fine. No one has to like it. Just me. I know that I look older but my heart is as young as ever. Most days I feel like a child. I still have so much to learn.  I’m running, skipping, tripping, limping grey-haired and free into all that God has ahead for me, whatever it is. We never really know.

For my dear friend Philip Yancey, his future includes Parkinson’s, a diagnosis he received recently. In his breathtaking piece in CT he reflects on his new disabilities. He’s interviewed presidents, rock stars, actors, people at the height of success. And he’s interviewed pastors who were imprisoned in China, leprosy patients in India, and people who have suffered terrible debilitating diseases. He’s found that “ . . .those who live with pain and failure tend to be better stewards of their life circumstances than those who live with success and pleasure. Pain redeemed impresses me much more than pain removed.”

As we age, as our bodies and abilities change, we all have the chance not to deny the length or struggle of our passage, but to grow beautifully and humbly young through it. As Philip is doing. As I am trying to do. Jesus knows this is the only way we’ll become “great.”

At that time the disciples came to Jesus, asking, “Who is the greatest in the Kingdom of heaven?” 2 So Jesus called a little child to come and stand in front of them, 3 and said, “I assure you that unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the Kingdom of heaven. 4 The greatest in the Kingdom of heaven is the one who humbles himself and becomes like this child.”

 

Lord, each day as we get older, grow us younger. Grow us into your humble beautiful children. Amen

Dear friends, A quick announcement! Maybe it’s time to begin writing your story? Maybe it’s time to heal. Maybe it’s time to leave a legacy for your family. Maybe it’s time to discover the depths of your own life experiences—and others will be inspired. All of this CAN happen! I’m leading a free live webinar in a few days, “Make Your Story Matter.” Sign up here: https://www.leslieleylandfields.com/free-class