HAIR

Standing in front my bathroom mirror, I look at the new me and think to myself, “I am almost put together again”.  When I dress each day and I am out marketing, no one really sees how vulnerable I am because they can’t see my hidden bandages that I still wear from wound care.  In fact truth be told, this is a better body – a flat stomach, I finally have cleavage, and Wow! - a new styling belly button! It’s all good until ,,,the hair.

 It’s the hair that gets me.  I can cover my body, but not the hair.  It’s like some took a black permanent marker and wrote across my face – HAD CANCER. It’s not even about how I look as much as why  I’m patchy bald.  Why did I have to be the 1% that doesn’t get their hair back and be left with this obvious reminder?  This is my big complaint to the Lord.  When this reconstruction process is over and when the 4 years are done of that darn Tamoxifen drug -that have packed the pounds on me – I’m DONE! This whole nightmare will be over and I will move on and forget about all of it!

I rant and rave, because now I can’t without hair. I will never be able to forget about Cancer each time I have to slip on a hat or hope it’s not too windy outside.  I want the memory erased God! I want to Forget!  Even my Onco..doctor tried with different treatments to get my hair follicles going because he knew it too and said, “It’s a reminder.”  Every minute of every day I am wondering if my wig is on crooked, or it feels like a tourniquet on my head.  I can’t let it go, it’s always there. And why?   Oh yeah,.. I had Cancer.

God gently nudged my heart the other day and met with me over my chronic frustration.

  He said, “Lynn, I WANT  to remember and I WANT you to remember too.”  I didn’t even have a chance to argue when He continued, “Your patchy hair is a marker of one of my most intimate times with you.” “I would never trade those dark days for your seemingly peaceful nights.”  “You cried out to me and I held you tightly and rocked your fears to sleep.”  “You pressed in and I loved being with you that close.” “Those were the days I visited each of your family members gave them strength and hope” They became soldiers in prayer and mighty warriors in my Kingdom.  “It was the time I imparted peace to your husband and told him he wouldn’t be alone for I was giving you both a future and a hope” “I made sure to partner with your friends to surround you with love and comfort” “I made you a better friend and them as well.“ 

Tears slid down my cheek as I rubbed my scrappy head.  I said, “You know God, I don’t want to forget either” “this hair is really beautiful isn’t it?”   I have realized that in life not everything just gets patched up and put together again.  Maybe when it’s not, it’s a sign God is moving in ways we can’t see just yet.

  His type of “moving” is invading like swirling smoke into every painful crevice of our being.
……It is  dispelling…it is deeper ….it is stronger and a love story at the highest form. 

 My eyes now still get misty, but for a different reason:

 I no longer see words written with a black marker – the person in the mirror looking at me is a woman of God defined by the Father who loves her and all those most precious to her.