And It Was Beautifulنموونە

The Cost of the Cure

You’re sitting in your backyard one afternoon and suddenly you start losing your hair, one handful at a time. There’s nothing that can prepare you for that moment. But there we were, Story Jane and me, pulling out handfuls of my hair. I thought of Sarah, Plain and Tall giving the hair from a haircut to the fields for the birds to build nests. I would love to see nests of hair like mine. No, actually I wouldn’t. I would rather keep my hair.

It is both weird and creepy to have your hair come out in handfuls. It is as though my hair has just quit on me. On the bright side, my breast cancer lump is getting noticeably smaller. So I stomach the bad with the good. All vanity aside, I want to live. And if losing my hair means I can be present for another snuggle, another spelling test, another packed lunch, another load of laundry, another prayer, another shared coffee with Jason, another bike ride, another morning worship, another giggle over a body function, another chance to cry, another meal with friends on the back porch, another camping trip and another moment praising my Savior, then so be it. This loss of hair is worth another tomorrow. I trust that Jesus knows exactly how many more tomorrows I have. He knows exactly every hair that’s coming out by the handful today.

So the next time you see me, I may be sporting a hat or a wig, maybe even a scarf. Whatever reality soon finds me, I pray it finds me in perfect peace with the One who holds my yesterday, today, and tomorrows.

Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge…

You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore. (Ps. 16:1, 11)