Her hair is gone.
She didn’t want to wait for it to fall out in clumps. She didn’t want to be sick and hurting when she lost it. She wanted it to happen when she was feeling good and when she was surrounded by people she loved. She wanted to feel strong.
So we gathered in the little wig shop. We came in out of the rainy night to be together, to help her face this latest challenge. There was nervous laughter and small talk. When the stylist began to buzz off her curls, we took pictures and we didn’t cry. We blinked back tears but we didn’t cry.
What is it that is so special about a woman’s hair? I was on a college campus this week and I kept watching the girls. Every one is different–God’s creative genius evident on every head. Unique color, unique texture, unique style. When Marissa was ordering her wig, we tried to match her color and curl and we could not. Out of hundreds of choices, there wasn’t one perfect match. There wasn’t one that really looked like her.
So now her hair is gone. Her head is beautiful. Her wig is beautiful. But they are not familiar, not what we know. There is this new stretching, this new acceptance of how things are. There is a new wondering of how things will be.
But there are also new mercies every morning.
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning. Great is Your faithfulness. (Lamentations 3:22-23)