“Catalina, tu eres fea.”
“Catalina, porque tu cortas tu pelo? Esta feo ahora.”
“Catalina, tu pelo es malo.”
“Catalina, tu pelo es como un chico.”
“Catalina, no me gustate porque tu pelo es pequeno.”
“Tita, are you a boy or a girl?”
“Tita, you are a boy.”
“Tita, do you like girls?”
“Tita Cai, your short hair is ugly.”
“Tita, girls should have long hair.”
“Tita Cai, why you cut your hair? It was beautiful before.”
“You’re not even worth it.”
I guess it’s time I explain why I cut my hair.
No, it wasn’t too hot. I didn’t mind it longer, but it wasn’t my favorite. I liked my blonde streaks, my curls, my beads, having it braided, or up like a 50s girl. I liked thinking “people will be so impressed I was willing to surrender my crazy hair for this trip and even more impressed that it’s so long when I get home.”
I’m actually pretty embarrassed to be writing about my hair again, but there’s deeper, interconnected meaning to this.
In Nicaragua, I felt the Lord telling me that I found too much identity in my hair and not enough in Him. That i should believe that I’m beautiful because I daily choose to look at His Face and that makes my face more radiant, not because of my hair. That I trust Him with all these random things that don’t make sense because that’s what faith is, but I don’t trust Him with my hair. I had no problem surrendering attire, makeup or hygiene but I didn’t feel good about myself unless my hair was exactly how I wanted it to be because I wasn’t confident in my face or how i looked. Stupid, huh? You never would’ve guessed I have self-confidence issues, huh?
I took a huge leap of faith, and had my brother Kory cut off my hair. I was scared, unsure, but I knew I needed to do it. I was afraid to look in the mirror at the end, because I was truly petrified to see my face when I had nothing to hide it behind.
Cutting my hair gave me the awesome opportunity to witness to girls in the community about how man may judge by physical appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart. And that’s where true beauty comes from, and the fact that I have short hair and a tattoo does not mean that God loves me any less or that I’m going to hell. And through that one bible study, God broke down so many walls in myself and in the girls of Bethel.
I thought the stupid remarks about how I was ugly would end when we left Nicaragua, but they haven’t. I asked the Lord to break me, and He has. Being here has been one of the best things that’s happened to me, but I’ve also had to face some of my hardest challenges.
Surrendering to God’s timing. Surrendering my desires. Surrendering my desire to be in control. Surrendering my fears. Surrendering my future. Surrendering my self-image.
I’ve always wanted to be an author, even going back to when I was in first grade, third grade, fourth. I’ve always loved words, and been gifted with them and a love for writing. I also believe in loving on God’s people, and listening to them. I believe that everyone deserves grace, redemption, to have their story heard, and to be loved despite their flaws. I believe in the truth, and I believe firmly in the power of words. James 3:3-5 states “When we put bits into the mouths of horses to make them obey us, we can turn the whole animal. 4 Or take ships as an example. Although they are so large and are driven by strong winds, they are steered by a very small rudder wherever the pilot wants to go. 5 Likewise, the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts.”
I’ve been realizing, the more comments that I hear that hurt me, and the more people try to manipulate me and tear me down, how true it is that words, such a small thing, hold such power.
In this, though, I’ve also seen more of the beauty of words. How Christ speaks through people, and how as Christians, like Peter, we have the ability to speak Christ over people because His Spirit lives in each of us, His new temple.
Hence, I’ve decided to pursue my love of words, and stories, and the importance of people being heard. I’ve decided to follow Journalism as a major in college and listen to people and share their stories, and do my best to love them the way Christ loves us, because no one should EVER have to hear the words “you’re not even worth it.” Every person should know their story is worth something, that the Lord created their inmost being, that they are fearfully and wonderfully made in His image, that each day of their life was written in His book before one of them came to be. Each girl should know that she is beautiful, no matter the color of her skin, the shape of her face, the length of her hair, that she doesn’t need a man to determine her self-worth.
Every time I see the JAZ girls, I tell them they’re beautiful. Sometimes, they shake their head and say “no, I’m not.” Sometimes, they smile and say “tita, thank you” and sometimes they say “Tita, you’re beautiful too.” Sometimes, they laugh, put their arms around my neck and shower my cheeks with kisses.
And in those moments I think, how little the words youre ugly and youre not worth it mean in comparison to the kisses and hugs and ‘youre beautiful’s and tiny hands wiping away tears from my weeping face. How little, in comparison to a giggling baby boy in my arms who wouldn’t be alive without my love, a folder full of letters from people back home, a team of girls who would give up anything for me, a skype call with a family who’s given me more than I deserve so I could follow the Lord’s call in my life. How little the lies of this world mean when I have the truth of the Lord and the love that He gives in my heart.
Beautiful words hold way more power than ugly ones.
And the truth holds more power than lies.
And I firmly believe in the biggest truth there is.
