Ninjas don't get manicures

I haven't gotten a manicure in months. I said goodbye to my nail guy, Tom (that's his american name) back in August. I miss Tom. He always gave me the cousin discount, because he said my last name was just Dao, like his, and we were cousins. I learned how to say "God bless you" "hi" "goodbye" "how are you? I'm fine" in Vietnamese :) I got to share about Christ with Tom, and Tom would encourage me by saying sweet things like "you have boyfriend? no? then I'm lucky man to hold your hand" and he would write random symbols on my hand with oil to bless me after he did my nails. It was a great, wholesome experience. 

I said bye to Tom because God opened my eyes about how super duper selfish I was being with my money. I spent easily over $150 monthly with things that were related to my outside upkeep, when others didn't even have food. I repented.


Fast forward 4 months, and I'm in Brazil. Here it costs roughly 7 American bucks to get a mani and a pedi. My sweet cousin decided to give me a treat. It was more of a family intervention. I have a typical Brazilian family, with very great-looking ladies. They all have their nails done, and they all look 15 years younger than they are :)


So my cousin sent me to the beauty parlor and paid for me to get a mani and pedi. 
The nail lady kept making "tut tut tut tut tut" sounds when she was cutting my cuticles, and cried out "ohhh mercy" when she saw my feet. I had to laugh. It's so not that big of a deal to me anymore. My feet are still so cute and clean and little, yet "oh mercy!" was all the lady could say.


Here's the hardest part:
I look down and I have a really cute manicure. It's stressful trying not to completely ruin it. It seems inevitable. I am really rough. I lift heavy things with eagerness. I fish for keys with cat-like reflexes. I like to bring down the fist of justice when I see a bug trespassing in a 2-foot radius. I become a small hurricane of orderly chaos when doing house chores. Judo chopping is part of my daily moves. I get dressed very efficiently and quickly, zipping, snapping, pulling what I need to.

My nails will get ruined in a matter of hours. They're doomed.


It's awesome to see how different I already am in 4 months. I have forgotten how to not destroy a manicure. Something that was part of me now feels foreign. I am so unattached to these things that used to define me. I thought it was just an inner stumbling block, having only to do with how I'm perceived by others, but there's more! I didn't realize how much they hindered my agility and ninja moves.

I used to think that my worth, beauty, and identity had partially to do with my nails. I've been assured, during this time of abounding growth, that the only nails that define me are the ones which held my Savior to the cross.


I still feel lovely without all the frills, and I'm practically a ninja.


Thank You, Jesus, for Your nails, and for the freedom.