As I drifted deeper towards Nirvana, I thought I heard a voice telling me it was time to go get my hair cut now. I was being urged to leave the only complete relaxation I had ever known. I didn't open my eyes.
"How about it you just go cut my hair without me?" I urged.
The stylist laughed, "It will be a beautiful cut."
"If it is half as good as the chair, it will be," I murmured, "Can I buy the Chair instead?"
I was desperate for a haircut, as I leave to see my folks tomorrow, and my hair after 10 weeks without a cut was all over the place.This is not my regular hair cuttery. However, it will be now. I didn't care what she did to my hair, as long as I would be allowed to visit the Chair again. I knew there were different levels of stylists here, and of course, I chose the less pricey one.
I wondered if the level 4 stylists let their clients stay an extra few minutes in the Chair. I think I would have become a criminal to support my Chair habit.
I followed the stylist reluctantly to her salon station, glancing back repeatedly at the Chair.
This is not really Heaven, I had to keep telling myself. Heaven will be much more wonderful. Once again, here I am on earth trying to substitute temporal pleasures for what my heart really longs for- the eternal pleasures of God. I don't think I am alone on this one. The writer of "a bird in hand is worth two in the bush" gets my point of view. Even the Bible while not necessarily condoning my false idols, understands the allure. Who can forget one of my favorite verses: A live lion is better than a dead dog.?I may have come to the salon with the purpose of a haircut, but the temptation of eternal massage by the chair was fuzzying my intentions.
I settle for too little, because it is so easily available, because it is present, because it removes the kink in my spine. I get distracted by things that are nice, but only satisfy for a season. I forget the things that will satisfy for eternity. Worthy goals are sometimes sidetracked by momentary pleasure. I would tackle and shove aside my grandmother (if she were still alive) for one minute in the Chair, but sometimes can't rouse the energy and attention for 30 seconds of communing with the God who created both her and me. Idols are not always made of Gold and given obvious worship. Sometimes idolatry is subtle, and that is when it is perhaps most dangerous.
"When would you like to book your next appointment?" the stylist asked, as I gazed at my new, lovely haircut.
"Tomorrow," I said, "Unless you have an opening this afternoon."
