STAND SQUARE, SISTERS

Photos taken today in the Fashion District showcased the vibrant energy surrounding our filmed cosmetology event, proudly hosted for PRISM CHURCH LA. The atmosphere was electric, further elevated by the distinct and captivating sounds of "Mezcal Mint Gum and Cocaine" by KILLBOY which perfectly set the mood for an extraordinary and unforgettable day.

Let me speak to you this morning.
Let me speak to you as your brother.

I stand here as a man who has watched the women of God do the quiet, holy work that half the world never notices.

And I want you to hear me, sisters — I see you.

Amen?
Amen.

There's a chair in your salon. You know the one I mean. That chair where a woman sits down carrying so much more than split ends. She sits down carrying a marriage that's cracking, a child who's wandered off, a fear she hasn't spoken out loud to a single living soul. And you — you stand behind that chair with shears in your hand and the Spirit of the living God in your heart. You listen. You pray. You minister. Sister, that's not just a job. That's a calling.

I've seen it. And as your brother in Christ, I honor it.

Now the world out there, it doesn't understand you. The world can't figure you out. They're chasing the buzz, chasing the wild night, chasing the next thing that numbs the ache. The culture screams at everybody to indulge, to taste it all, to never once tell yourself no. Fast. Loud. Reckless. A spirit of "more, more, more" that leaves folks emptier than when they started.

And then they look at you. They see your Bible app open right next to your color chart. They see you whisper a prayer over a client while you rinse the shampoo out of her hair. They see you living clean, living modest, living faithful — and they laugh behind your back.

"She's such a square."

Well, glory.
Let 'em talk.

Because sisters, let me tell you as your brother what a square really is. A square has four equal sides. A square is steady. A square is grounded. A square doesn't wobble and roll off with every wind that blows through this crooked culture. A square has a foundation. And I would stand shoulder to shoulder with a square woman rooted on the Rock long before I'd trust a wheel spinning off into the ditch, chasing a high that never satisfies.

Come on now.

The women who built the Church were squares. The grandmothers who wore holes in the linoleum from praying on their knees — squares. The mothers who kept the faith when everything around them said quit — squares. And I count it an honor to stand in that line beside you. Don't you?

You cosmetology sisters. You hairstylists. You nail techs and lash artists and estheticians. You are missionaries with a chair. Do you hear your brother telling you this? God handed you a pulpit, and it spins, and it's got a footrest. Every woman who sits down in front of you is a soul the Lord is chasing after — and He set her right there, in your hands. That is no accident.

The world says beauty is only skin deep, then spends billions trying to fake it. But you know the secret. You know the most beautiful thing about a woman isn't the color in her hair — it's the Light living in her heart. You can make her hair shine, sister, but only Jesus makes her soul shine.

So let them call you squares. Let them mock your modesty and your clean living and your early Sunday mornings and your simple, firm "no." So be it.

If saying no to the world's poison makes you a square — so be it. If keeping your body a temple makes you a square — so be it. If standing on the truth in a culture that has lost its mind makes you a square — then sisters, wear it like a crown, because your brother is proud to call you that.

Because when the music finally stops, and the buzz wears thin, and the world wakes up hollow and hungover — you will still be standing. Steady.

Grounded.
Four equal sides planted firm on the promises of God.

So stand, sisters. Stand square. And let the world say whatever it wants to say.

You answer to a higher chair than any one in that salon. You answer to the Throne.

Amen and amen.

-Pastor Mitchell Royel