"Oh, okay, then.  I'll cut your hair differently next time."                                                                                           

I was stunned.  I managed to say, "That'll be great, Dee!"  But I was flabbergasted. 

Why?  Because the piece of information to which Dee was responding was... well... not really news.  "Not really news?"  That is putting it absurdly mildly. 

Dee has been cutting my hair for over five years.  Nothing has changed.  Well, okay, I admit it:  during those years, the hair that--once upon a time--used to be blond, has gone from mostly brown to mostly gray.  So, something has changed.  But, not the specific item to which she was responding.

For, Dee's response came after I had told her yet again that no, I do not use gel or mousse or anything else to make my hair "stay put." 

This is not conceivable to Dee.  After all, she uses that stuff every day.  Many times a day.  And, conservatively, I would guess that within a couple of steps of her workstation, Dee must have access to at least two dozen different kinds of goo (er,"product") with which to make hair stay exactly where she puts it.  It is simply inconceivable for Dee that anyone would towel-dry his hair, run a comb through it and then just let it fall wherever it wants.  But that is what I do.  What can I say?  As Dave Barry might explain, I behave this way because I am, after all, only a "guy."  (See his Complete Guide to Guys for a fabulous exploration of what "guy-ness" entails!)

To be fair, the vast, vast majority of the hair that Dee cuts sprouts from the heads of women.  And, fortunately, almost all women pay infinitely more attention to their hair than I pay to mine.  I appreciate their efforts.  But I do not imitate them.  So, my behavior makes no sense to Dee.  That is probably why, though she has heard me say it monthly for over five years, Dee has never really registered the fact that her two dozen potions are wasted on me.

Now, also in the interest of fairness, I should point out that Dee's efforts over the last 5+ years have generally turned out just fine.  So, from one point of view, it is no big deal that she has never really "heard" what I've been saying.  The results may not look the same after the next day's shower as they do when I get out of her chair, but they have worked quite well for me.  So, month after month, I have gone back.

I have no idea what caused Dee to "hear" what I was saying this time, after apparently not hearing it before.  But it did get me to thinking (occupational hazard, I suppose). 

It made me remember the afternoon in El Salvador when my dear friend and colleague, Ismael, came to me with a big smile and a twinkle in his eye, to explain that the seminary gardener had a problem.  The gardener had commissioned Ismael to tell me something.  Something simple.  Something in Spanish.  Something in Spanish?  The gardener was new to the seminary, but as he did his work, he undoubtedly overheard me teaching in Spanish in our open-air classroom.  Daily.  Stranger still, we had actually been greeting each other and even chatting for several weeks by that point.  In Spanish.  Honest-to-goodness, idiomatic, "street Spanish."  In fact, Salvadoran ("puro guanaco," as they say).

So, Ismael could barely contain his laughter, as he passed along the message from the gardener.  Despite his experience of many days, when the gardener looked at me, he just knew I could not be a Spanish speaker.  So, when it was time to initiate a message from his side of the relationship, the dear brother went through Ismael. 

Jesus talked about the importance of having ears to hear.  He was in good company, especially that of Isaiah, who complained that people had ears and eyes, but could neither hear nor see what was right in front of them.

The gospel writers tell us that Jesus was most fully rejected by two sorts of people:  those from his hometown (experts on Jesus-as-a-little-boy-&-teenager) and the religious authorities (experts on who-God-is-and-how-God-operates).  In both cases, what they already knew seems to have prevented communication between their ears or eyes and their understanding.  They had ears, but failed to hear, eyes, but failed to see.

First century Palestinians did it.  Salvadoran gardeners do it.  Pennsylvania hairdressers do it.  We all do it.  Failing to hear or see something that is right before us because we already "know" what to expect is a universal human experience.

So, there is absolutely no reason to assume that I will be immune to those very same dynamics during these next two weeks of teaching in Thailand and Myanmar.  In fact, only by the grace of God will I be able to escape the trap of my expectations, the trap built out of what I think I already know.  But God is much bigger, and God's work in the world much broader, richer and more subtle than anything I can imagine.

So, I pray for grace.  For ears to hear.  For a heart and mind open to receive and understand.  Thank you for praying with me!  And, whatever challenges and opportunities may be yours this week, may the Lord enable you also to have ears to hear.

Blessings,
Stan