Lately, I was thinking about how much I love my hairstylist.
Because she does my hair so well? Well, she does, but that’s not why.
Because she offers kindness and seems to enjoy the challenge of shaping my mangled mess of thick, wiry waves? Well, that’s awesome too, but that’s not it either.
Because, quite simply, she lets me in.
She talks to me about deep subjects. She shares her mama angst and desire to raise a good son. And she lets me see glimpses of that beautiful Spirit God gave her…that heart she is letting Jesus shape.
I absolutely appreciate that we can talk about matters of faith together, but the reason I carry her around in my heart is more than that.