I got my eyebrows waxed and plucked the other day. I don't get my nails done, I don't go for a regular massage or facial (although this could be a possibility…hmmmm), but I do go every so often and get the brows corralled back into order.
They are rather beastly things and need to be tamed. They have been known to frighten small children and little dogs. And now? Well, let's just say that half of me looks surprised and the other side is not.
I now have uneven brows. Asymmetrical. One curves up as though I was just told something exciting, the other just says "oh, not so much going on here" How did this happen?
Let's just say, that for those that have never had their eyebrows waxed and plucked, that it is pretty much like stabbing pins in your face while ripping swatches of hair out by the roots at the same time. The warm wax feels nice but then it is interrupted quite rudely by a piece of paper being pressed into it. Then the paper, with the wax that now has your eyebrow hairs embedded in it, are ripped off in one quick motion. It is all I can do not to let out a very loud: "OUCH!!!" But that is better than the fine-tuning that occurs when individual eyebrow hairs are plucked out one-by-one-by-one. Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow!
Torture.
I keep my eyes closed throughout the process and trust that the plucker knows eyebrows and will give me the desired result. The other day, as she plucked, I felt like their was a bit of a one-sided focus. I began to wonder if I would have a brow left after 437 individual plucks.
So when she asked me if they looked okay, I opened my eyes and through the haze of pain, tears and blurred vision I checked out the little beasts and just said "yes". Because I really thought they were okay and I didn't think I could take just one more pluck.
Then I looked in the mirror a day later and saw the kinda subtle, but odd difference. Kinda funny really, and I decided that a little quirk fits me to a tee. Because, in case you thought otherwise, I am not perfect. Startling revelation, I know.
This flawed body that I reside in, this mind that is forgetful and sometimes does the oddest things (like going out in public with a pair of mid-calf black boots and having one pant leg tucked in, the other left out until my brother-in-law points out this weird fashion choice. I've done this 3 times, now by the way) is just how I am. Not that while on this earth, I don't strive to be as good as I can be, but I can accept that perfection is unattainable in this life. And even with all the mistakes, the goofy missteps, the out-of-sync days, I am always loved by the God who created me.
That's pretty wonderful.
And I can still be the women I was created to be, because I know He's not finished with me yet. Eyebrows or not. And it reminds me of one of my favorite verses in Phillipians 1:6 and it goes like this:
"…being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus."
So thankful that God doesn't give up on this broken, chipped and cracked vessel, but that He keeps on fine-tuning, making me into the woman I am meant to be.
Love,
Dianne
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