I decided to go get my hair cut on a whim. This place on the North-side was running a special for new clients, so I made an appointment with a young guy about my age. I knew instantly that he was hurting, and felt a stirring in my heart before I even went in.
Within 5 minutes we had the usual conversation:
“Are you from Chicago?”
“No I’m from California.”
“Oh, What brought you to Chicago.”
“School”
“What School did you go to?”
“Moody Bible Institute.”
[Instant “Christian” stereotype stamped on my forehead]
I haven’t felt the Spirit’s subtle presence like I did in that salon chair for a while.
5 Minutes later:
“So, can I ask you a personal question about this religion thing”
“Yeah, oh course!”
[Oh, Lord… give me words…]
“So, I know a lot of churches in the area are ‘progressive’ and are accepting of partnerships and gay couples, and you seem to be totally okay with me… but is your church accepting of gay couples?”
My heart just ached. I didn’t want to mask truth, but I also didn’t want to answer in a way that would shut down conversation.
I asked the spirit to give me words. He did.
“Well, I don’t really think that you can put a blanket over an entire community… people are individuals and we are all at different places.” [Lord… we all just need You]
We kept talking for a bit. He asked about my family and if that is where I got my “religiousness” from. When I said I was the only believer in my family he was legitimately shocked. He then asked how I came to be “religious” (I hate that word).
I quickly asked God how much of my testimony to share. He answered so clear.
“Lacy, this man has been through more in his lifetime then you can imagine… tell him everything.”
So, I shared my testimony while he was wrapping my hair in foils. I didn’t spare any nasty, humbling detail. I didn’t watch my language or attempt to sugarcoat truth. I told him who I was, and who I am, and Who it was that transformed my life.
He sat down next to me as I was finishing the story, telling him how I sat encompassed by Gods love the day I surrendered my life to Him. His beautiful soul smiled, and he said “I’m really glad you came in today.”
He didn’t get it. He wasn’t saved in that moment. He still thought I was the “good person” in the story. I am not good, My God is the only thing good in me. But, seeds were planted. I felt God’s pursuit of him. God’s longing for his son to come home.
A few years ago God really opened up a lot of opportunities for me to work in a broken and hurting community. My heart was broken and beat-up. I cried and wept over my Bible as I searched scripture, war-fairing on behalf of my friends who were so hidden in darkness. It was hard work. It was heart work. And for a while, I have resisted this calling for fear of the heartache that accompanies it. As I sat speaking to this young man, God reminded me of this burden, of this calling, of this desire to see those so scarred by sexual abuse and perversion to come to know the healing touch of the One who gave it all.
What is so beautiful about this story, is that on that particular day, at that particular moment… I felt so weak, so exhausted and torn up by life and circumstance. I wanted to escape reality for a while. Forget my responsibilities and this things swirling around in my head. I went into this salon to escape; it is there that God met me and brought needed relief to my weary heart. My Father gently encouraged me and reminded me of the woman that he has called me to be; reminded me of His heart for the broken in this city.
Our God is so good, so gentile, and so compassionate. His forgiveness abundant and His arms, open wide. This is a testimony of that; A testimony of a sovereign Father using a broken vessel to plant a seed in a lost son. That is how marvelous our God is.
Lacy
Our Stone Pile 