Now that I’ve reached “a certain age,” I understand that none among us are immune to the toll of time and tides. As I tell the chiropractor’s assistant, my back “talks” to me. During a recent round of bookkeeping at the kitchen table, where the chairs are more fancy than functional, my back and I had a quite lively conversation.
I had realized for some time the need for a good office chair, so the following Saturday found me in the local office supply store, Goldilocks testing out the samples, looking one that was “just right.” I finally settled on a chair that would provide good support while matching both the kitchen table and the living room furniture.
As good as the chair looked on the sales floor, the sale price looked even better. “Ms. Frugal” declined the offer of in-store assembly and happily hauled home parts in a box at no extra charge. Thankfully the instructions were fairly intelligible, but what immediately captured my attention was the picture of the assembled chair with the caption, “behold, the finished product!”
I chuckled, having been gifted with an introduction to a blog entry.
Two days earlier, I had visited the hairdresser. I’ve been trying over the past several months to develop a simpler hair care routine and cut back on products. Part of that process was an attempt to return to my natural hair color, thinking once I went to a darker shade I could be done with coloring for good. My stylist dashed that dream with one look at the stripes of darker roots peeking through faded ends. Turns out darker colors out of a box fade over time.
I hate to admit this, but I’ve colored my hair for so long that no one, including me, remembers exactly what color my hair really is.
The stylist suggested, based on the roots, that my hair is an ashy light brown. Although my birth certificate agrees with her assessment, I’ve always considered my natural color more of a “dishwater blonde.” I kept this in mind as wheeled into the parking lot of the nearest discount store on the way home. After looking at the same six boxes a dozen times, “Ms. Frugal” selected the least expensive box with the color description closest to the stylist’s assessment and headed home.
Ninety minutes later, the finished product was nothing to behold. My hair, a very dark brown, bore no resemblance to the picture on the box.
I waited about 36 hours, combing Pinterest for tips on how one might safely lighten too-dark hair color. I concocted varying combinations of common products: dandruff shampoo, dish washing liquid, baking soda, Epsom salt, vinegar, and lemon juice. After several sessions of washing and conditioning, I finally achieved a more natural brown shade that I can at least live with until I can safely try coloring again in a few weeks. Thankfully, no one but me laughed out loud. I actually got a compliment or two. A coworker summarized the experience best: “You’re not blonde any more.”
The word “behold” implies something noteworthy or impressive, hardly worthy of a humble, sale-priced office chair or an otherwise ordinary, currently brown-haired midwestern gal. I’ve spent all my life trying to learn humility; to avoid, as my mama used to say, “getting too big for my britches.” I am a work in progress, and I will be as long as I live and breathe.
Each of us is designed to grow, learn, change, and adapt. Life comes in seasons, each with its own burdens and blessings. I choose to make the best of the burdens and thank God for the blessings. Whether a chair or a child of God, function is far more important than fashion. I look forward to fulfilling my function all the days of my life. As a follower of Christ, I look even more forward to hearing Him say, someday, “well done, good and faithful servant.”
That will be a finished product to behold!
Copyright 2019 lifeatroomtemperature.com Sherry A Hathaway. All rights reserved.