Barbed Wire Beard

Today I had to face daylight again after three days in the house resting from the virus that has struck me down of late. I had to attend my local health centre to give some blood samples for further tests. Thankfully the nurse found a vein first time, the blood was reassuringly red and I will know the results next Tuesday.

During my self-imposed hibernation I had not shaved meaning that I had some impressive stubble this morning when I arose from my pit. While I think this adds to my rugged good looks (I like to see myself as a slightly younger George Clooney) Fionnuala views it somewhat differently. ‘It’s disgusting’, ‘You look like a tramp’ and ‘Don’t come anywhere near me with that thing’ are three of the printable comments she has made about my face furniture in the past.

I once didn’t shave for a month for a cancer charity and it almost resulted in divorce proceedings. I ended up looking like a cross between Desperate Dan and that creepy guy who you never want to sit beside on public transport. Worse still it was the month when the five of us were baptised together as a family. The resulting photos, which should take pride of place in our home, are hidden away as Fionnuala and the kids smile in the baptism pool beside a comedy Mexican bandit. 

So I decided it was time to shave this morning. While Fionnuala had taken pity on me given I was ill I didn’t want to scare the staff or patients at the health centre when I walked in. ‘Honestly this isn’t a hold up. I’m just here to give a blood sample. I don’t want your wristwatch.’

Now I hate shaving at the best of times. It just seems such a waste of time when I could be doing something much more useful such as an extra five minutes in bed. No wonder so many men sport beards now. 5 minutes x 365 = 1825 minutes. That’s just over 76 hours a year. 3 days! Imagine how many blogs I could write in that time. And money I would save on shaving foam and razor blades.

Yes shaving makes no sense practically or economically. We have central heating now God. Why the requirement for facial hair still? Jesus never felt the need. Oh well, I suppose you know best being omniscient and all that. So as an act of humble worship and obedience (e.g. fear of my wife) I stomped into the bathroom and started going through the routine of applying the shaving foam to my face, wetting the razor, lifting it to my face and….

AAAAARRRRGGGHHHHHHH!!!

It was agony. Due to the length and thickness of the stubble, the blade scraped across my skin like a cat’s claws across a blackboard. The next five minutes became a masterclass in grimacing, gurning and general muttering. Through the eye-watering pain I could only think that this is how Wolverine must feel when he goes to the barber’s for his annual trim.

Eventually a clean shaven Stephen staggered back out of the bathroom looking like a million dollars. All green and crumpled *ta ditsch*. My shaving experience had been akin to an Old Testament story, such had been the wailing and gnashing of teeth. Why oh why hadn’t I shaved yesterday or, even better, the day before that rather than endure this ordeal? Why leave it to the last minute and accordingly enter a world of chin trauma?

Decision inertia? Analysis paralysis? Whatever fancy corporate training speak you come up, it is unwise to delay a difficult decision when the answer is staring you in the face. Stephen – you have a medical appointment on Wednesday. You can either (a) shave comfortably on Monday and Tuesday and keep your stubble in order or (b) wait until Wednesday morning when it has the consistency and texture of rusty barbed wire ensuring you a hellish bathroom experience. It’s a no brainer right?

I found myself in the same position at various stages of my life. I felt God calling me to him but rather than take that final step I held back unable to let go of my old worldly existence and all it’s accompanying baggage. And the longer I delayed the more I dug a hole for myself. A hole of lies, addictive behaviour and self-loathing. Increasing the pain for my loved ones and myself.

So instead of gritting my teeth and pulling the sticking plaster off I dithered over the biggest decision of my life. And the longer I put it off the more difficult it became. Until eventually the day came when I looked myself in the mirror, winced a little and started to shave off my toxic stubble. Decades of sinful living and selfish thinking. All gone. It was a much more painful experience than it could have been had I made the decision earlier. But in the end it was done. I made the decision to become a Christian.

If you feel at rock bottom and sense God tugging at your heart my advice is to give in to him today. Don’t delay. Make that decision now. Hand over all the dirt and junk of your past life to him and start again. Unburdened and truly alive. Yes it may involve temporary pain. You may lose friendships and have to make radical lifestyle changes. But believe me it will be more painful if you hold back. Find a church. Buy a Bible. Speak to that Christian friend you have always had a million questions for but have been afraid to ask. Or just talk to God and invite him into your life. What have you to lose?

Who else shares my hatred of shaving? Ladies – feel free to join in the debate 😂

Is someone in your life who you could lovingly lead towards God? What steps are you taking?

Or are you that person? Are you curious about the Christian faith. If you have any questions then please ask us.