Refugee Hair

This last weekend we were in Brussels to learn more about a big service project called Serve The City. Justin and I know that this is something we definitely want to do in whatever city we end up in. This weekend was a great time of learning and connecting with fellow CAI-ers. On Saturday we actually did do a day of service. Justin took photographs and my project was to cut hair for refugees at a refugee center. Thank the Lord I had a professional hair stylist with me, who taught me all sorts of things that I didn’t know about hair cutting. I have so much to learn and really would love to be able to do some sort of official training!!! Anyways, enough rambling on about that!!!

If I am honest with myself, part of me was thinking of how cool it would be to be able to cut these people’s hair and then be able to tell about it on my blog or in our support update letter. Pretty pathetic, huh??? Completely the wrong reasons. Not that that was my only reason for wanting to cut their hair as I have always wanted to cut hair for serving/ministry reasons, but there was that piece of me that thought it would be cool to tell people. And here I am, telling you.  

And while I did cut their hair, I was actually pretty humbled in lots of areas. Starting with my lack of knowledge of cutting hair properly to the fact that these people were not just objects for me to take advantage of for support reasons or people thinking I am wonderful reasons. They have stories. Sad stories that most of us couldn’t even imagine. They come from cities that are literally torn apart by war. Families torn apart from war. One of the ladies who’s hair we cut was separated from her family and unable to return to her country due to not knowing where they were. She has a Bachelor’s degree, yet cannot use it. Now she waits, alone, in a foreign country. For what she waits, I am unsure.

This all got me thinking just how amazing and what a blessing it was to actually have the honor to cut these people’s hair. How we could easily be one of those people. Some of them were people just like you and me, but they just happened to grow up in a country where war is a part of daily life. If I could only stop and realize that everyone has a story and then take the time to actually listen to them. 

The sad part of all of this is that I was so worried about my hair cutting skills that I didn’t really even talk with the people. Well, and we spoke different languages. But the woman with the degree I talked about above, she spoke English and I didn’t hear her story from her, but from Justin, who actually took the time to talk with her.

I am pretty pathetic sometimes, but I am thankful that God is revealing these pathetic areas to me. I hope he continues to as I am such a messed up person.