Keď hovorím: Noha sa mi kĺže,
    Tvoja milosť ma podopiera, Hospodin.
Keď mi príval starostí zviera vnútro,
    Tvoja útecha dušu mi oblaží.
...Hospodin je mojou pevnosťou,
    môj Boh skalnou skrýšou.

                                     Žalm 94: 18-19, 22


When I said, “My foot is slipping,”
    your unfailing love, Lord, supported me.
When anxiety was great within me,
    your consolation brought me joy.
...the Lord has become my fortress,
    and my God the rock in whom I take refuge. 

                                    Psalm 94: 18-19, 22

When "be still, and know I am God" is getting a real workout.

Today is one of those strange days that one probably (hopefully) only has a few times in life. We don't know where we'll be sleeping tomorrow night, or the nights following. Our Airbnb reservation ends tomorrow and we haven't yet succeeded in finding a permanent apartment since a week ago when we arrived in Paris.

"To grow you need some rain", as Kirk Franklin's song goes.

I won't be getting into all the nitty-gritty of finding apartments in Paris (there is more than enough blogs dedicated to that), but I can say that it hasn't gotten any more pleasant of an experience since three years ago. Back then I was a lonely exchange student with scholarship money from an American university, trying to find my way around and not fall prey to les arnaques- scams. It was hard, but it wasn't impossible since I was more flexible and definitely more "affluent", although I had no idea at that time.

This time, I am a married woman with a non-EU hubby, a growing bump in front of me and almost no savings, still trying to find my way around and not fall prey to les arnaques. So you can imagine our chances of easily navigating the Parisian game of overpriced rent for minuscule studios usually catering toward single students. And you can also imagine why it has been rather hard to explain to our family that moving back to France is the best decision we could take at this precise moment.

But for the past two days, I've been walking around with a peculiar sense of peace and calm about it all. As if, the closer to the "kick-out" date we get, the higher the chances that God will finally show us our new home. Today I woke up thinking of always being thankful (1 Tess 5:16) and always rejoicing. To unbelievers this might sound crazy in the current state of affairs- and it sometimes does to myself as well. But I can't forget about the many times God has provided for me in the most ingenious and unexpected ways, and I can't remember any when I had to sleep outside or starve.

We ourselves are very curious about how all this will work out and where we will drag our suitcases tomorrow (and for how long). But one question we do know an answer to- "Since he did not spare even his own Son but gave him up for us all, won't he also give us everything else?" 

Community impressions

Most people in my vicinity have by now gotten used to my different hairstyle, so I receive a lot fewer comments on my dreads than in the beginning. It’s fun to see people’s reactions when I travel (though it can be a bit intimidating when I want to go unnoticed- growing dreads is not really the way to do it).

When went up to North Carolina, there were a lot of positive comments mainly from African Americans, which has generally been the rule. This was similar when I was visiting Atlanta. In D.C., however, I haven’t received any spontaneous feedback. Perhaps the stereotype is true, and the higher up north I go, the more reserved people are. Or they notice less… Or it’s more common to see white people with dreadlocks. Whatever the reason, it’s a neat little sociology experiment that I get to carry on my head.

I’ve gotten a few negative comments from my family (I was even told once that I look like a witch) and I think they see it as a personality phase that would soon pass. It’s been a bit challenging to not have much support from them, but it also teaches me to not be swayed by opposition and stay respectful and gracious when explaining to them the reasons for my hairdo. I would love them to remember that my dreads haven’t changed me on the inside, and that I am still the same old Mia (only perhaps a little more self-confident).

It will be exciting traveling to Angola and Slovakia this summer, trying to remember that very thing that I want my family to understand, and observing how my dreads will get accepted in each of these cultures. Whatever the common good and bad associations that people have with dreads (Rastafarian, bohemian, "black-culture-appropriationist", hippie or homeless), as India Aire said:

I am not my hair.

I am not this skin.

I am the soul that lives within.

Seven months of dreads

I crossed the half a year "dreaded mark" successfully, so I thought it would be a good time to write a little update about my dread journey.

It’s been seven months with the dreadzies, and I think they are looking pretty well! Definitely more matured and smooth looking than in the beginning, including fewer scalp patches showing and no unraveling in the middle of the dread. I've been struggling with an itchy scalp though, but I've found a remedy (see point 6 below).

Here are some of the routine maintenance steps I've been taking to keep them growing healthy: 

1) Washing them once to twice a week, depending on the amount of itching/sweat that week. 
2) Shampoos that have worked well: Knotty Boy soap or Dr. Bronner’s soap. I’ve used DreadHeadHQ’s soap but I found it harder to wash out without leaving a layer of thin white film on my scalp, followed throughout the week by dandruff and itching. I will stick to Dr. Bronner’s for the near future since I can get it pretty cheap (cca five bucks) at our local store and I don’t have to pay for the shipping all the way from Canada. Plus, I save a ton of plastic and paper wrapping that goes along with airmail. 
3) Crocheting about twice a week to pull in loose strands and new growth. I now tackled the technique well enough to not jab my thumb every time I do it!  
4) Applying DreadHeadHQ Dread Butter to take care of the surface of the dreads. Sometimes they get dry and scratchy, and the butter helps them be nourished and softer to the touch. And they smell amazing! I would like to find an alternative I don’t have to buy online for reasons similar to point No.2.  
5) Applying KnottyBoy Tightening Gell, especially to the strands that still feel soft. It smells great and gives the dreadzies some good vitamins, but they are sticky for a bit until the gel dries out.  
6) Dandruff and itchy scalp have been bugging me since day 1, and I finally found a cure that works! I mixed some water with a few drops of rosemary and lavender essential oils, and I spray it on my scalp with a spritz bottle once to twice a day. The dandruff is mostly gone! What also helps the scalp to regenerate is regular combing (I use my dread comb) and massaging while washing the hair.

Makeup-less week

The other day I was having one of those deep conversations with my hubby about the meaning of beauty and self-image in today's (primarily American) society. At one point I said that I won't let our girls relax their hair as it means applying toxic chemicals on their body and changing the structure of the hair so that it can't be undone just to conform to the beauty myth that encircles the craving of straight hair when one wasn't made to have one. There my husband stopped me and asked- "But is putting on makeup any different?"

I argued with him that makeup can be taken off, "undone", and that it doesn't change the inherent cell composition unlike straighteners do. That make up is something I use to highligh my beauty, rather than to "paint" the beauty on my face. These arguments are valid, and I think makeup is not harmful in and of itself. But in my heart, my hubby's question struck a chord. There is a certain conformity in me when I put on the mascara every morning, and when I retouch my foundation throughout the day to cover that red blemish. I do conform to the perfect beauty myth.
 
So I decided to go makeup-less for a week to find out what effect not painting my face will have on me, and the people around me. I was slightly reluctant at first when my husband suggested it, and that already told me that there was something wrong with the way I see makeup.

The more I thought of it, the more I realized that I attach value to makeup, and that I feel less "special", "pretty" or "precious" when I walk around without it. I always reasoned with myself that it makes my face "cleaner-looking". That it makes my eyes bigger. In short, that it emphasises my facial features. But the more I think about these mental statements, the more I realize they only serve as crutches for my lack of self-confidence.

So I set out to break my crutches and learn to walk by myself, beautiful as God made me. Not more
"emphasised".

For now, the challenge is to last for a week. It might end up being longer, perhaps forever. As long as it takes to truly sink in that makeup can't change who I truly am.