(This was the big day in Aug 2009)  The wig looked terrible.  How could I have loved it so much when I bought it?  What was wrong?  It was not hanging right, seemed so flat.  We were minutes from walking out the door to go to church and this last step of putting on my hair was becoming a growing disaster.

This was to be my first outing with the new “do.”  I had not anticipated having any trouble.  My plan was to throw the thing on and off we go.  Now the whole family was offering both wanted and unwanted suggestions on how to make it look better.  I felt like a fool.  I should have been more prepared, but then again, how do you prepare for instant baldness?

This “transitioning to no hair” weekend had been packed full of every emotion.  It was happening whether I was ready for it or not.  Now it was a matter of the best approach, managing the inevitable.  Saturday was the day.  I had so much hair dropping off of me that I couldn’t even enter the house.  I was stalling by doing some yard work, all the while feeling like cobwebs and spiders were crawling down my neck, back and arms.  This was it.  Take control.  Face up to it.

Eddie and I gathered the kids on the back deck armed with camera, video recorder, scissors and clippers.  Our goal was to make light of it and have everyone participate.  Our 3 year old, Olivia, went first.  She had a little pair of scissors and began cutting on my hair, although she seemed to be aiming for my ear most of the time.  Jessica, 13 years, was next.  She sculpted a whole design that actually looked quite good if my hair would just stay in place.  Next was Cory, 9, who made final chops having a good laugh.

I was holding it together pretty well until Ed pulled out the clippers.  The fun and games were over for me at this point, and cold, stark reality was there again.  I was a mess.  Covering my eyes, I wept as he shaved the remaining hairs down to a half inch.  Pictures of my mom battling cancer passed through my mind.  My heart was breaking all over again for what she had endured.  I can’t even remember how she handled losing her hair, whether she shaved it or let nature take its course.

The silent prayers were flooding my mind.  I was humiliated and devastated, but mostly praying for my family.  I just want them to be okay with this, knowing that God loves our family so much.  Our response is to love Him back and stay calm.  God really does have everything in control.

It’s a point of surrender.  Even my hair belongs to God.  I know that He is working all things for my good, and there is a purpose even when I can’t clearly see it.  a pastor recently said, “God will think about your life in ways you never will.”  I guess that’s what makes Him God.

We eventually made it to church.  God blessed me with some amazing comments about my new “haircut.”  He had to be chuckling when one lady grabbed me, hugged me and said, “See.  I told you, you wouldn’t lose your hair.  I’ve been praying.”  I was SO grateful for that comment.  I was going to make it through this- one surrendering step at a time- whether hair today or gone tomorrow.

2 Corinthians 4:17-18  “For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen.  For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

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Peace is possible in the midst of broken pieces of your life. We can live life by design and create a beautiful picture of God’s faithfulness... even in the midst of brokenness. Join me on this journey and sign up to receive blog posts in your inbox.

Let your unfailing love surround us, Lord, for our hope is in you alone.

Psalm 33:22 (NLT)

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