Don't Mess With My Hair {Words of Life Wednesdays}

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"Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God. For consider him that endured such contradiction of sinners against himself,
lest ye be wearied and faint in your minds."

{Hebrews 12:2:3}

"You have the nicest hair, Rebekah." A homeschool mom with her baby boy bouncing on her hip said to me at co-op the other week. "It's so beautiful."

I was floored at her gracious words as she trailed behind me as I stomped up the stairs. "You just made my day." I tossed my head right back and laughed in reply. I didn't know what to say after that and by then we had reached the landing so I left it with a meek and quiet thank you.

When you spend most moments of your days with your own three children and compliments to their Mama are not on the tips of their tongues, your ears don't grow accustomed to this kind of flattery. I am blessed with regular outbursts of, "You're the best mom" when they sink their teeth into fresh cinnamon rolls or I laugh crazy with them over their wild imaginings and stories and I tell funny tales of my own childhood. But, when you've already hung the medal around your own neck for 'worst mom of the year award' you can somehow let the best part roll right off their lips and believe it as a lie.

You can see why I was stopped short at her random compliment as we climbed the stairway.

The irony of it didn't go unnoticed by me either. I had to laugh at her comment. I had spent a total of 6 minutes drying my hair, 2 minutes and 30 seconds putting a hot curling iron through the layers, and 10 seconds with the hairspray bottle to hold it somewhat in place, before I ran out the door to art class.

Plus, I've had the same hair style for most of my life. It's not all that glamourous. I switch between long, straight and simple when I've had my three babies and all I have to do it wash it. And then I change it to long layers with gentle waves of curls when I have an extra 8 minutes and 40 seconds to put myself together for when this stay-at-home-educating Mama actually has to leave the house.

Ever since I had control of my own hairstyle, I've had long hair, and I've kept it long. I've splurged and put highlights in three times. Three times—that's it. Sorry gals, no fancy Beth Moore hair here. But, it's my glory. My security blanket. So please don't ask me to give my hair up.

Please don't make me have to walk that journey of baldness again.

I am all too familiar with the awful taste of fear of living it all over again. I know the horrid reality that it could return at any time and put an end to my days before I reach the promised life span or even worse before I have a chance to grow old in oneness with my love or see my beautiful children live what God has destined for them. I force myself to put a lid on those fears. I fight to keep these thoughts captive or I'd go crazy with borrowed trouble.

But, that same fear boils up and threatens to overflow every time I see or hear someone else living this nightmare. I feel their ache so deep. My heart cries for them in this place. At times, I can't bear to see how brave they are.

I want to scream, rant and rave, big and ugly, go away stupid cancer and leave us all alone. You have done enough damage to so many already. Pack your bags and never return. Give us a break.

Please let us keep our hair, our lungs, our glands, our breasts, our dignity, our children, our lives. Life is too hard already to have to live without these. Why do you mock us?

Why do we have to suffer like this at all?

Why?

And we break. We weep our way along this lonely road.

In the hallowed silence we hear the soft and gentle voice whisper to our broken souls.

In the heart and soul wrenching questioning comes the hope for the heart and soul.

Don't be afraid to ask why, but be sure to stick around for the answer.

In my broken heart, I know why there's this road of suffering. I pray to have faith to fully walk it.

It's in the privilege of suffering we know real joy. Joy blooms in the dark deep depths of suffering.

I've walked it. We can bow our heads and weep together. I know what cancer does. Believe me, I know. I know our journeys are all unique and it's a lonely road, but we have to remember He will never leave us.

We can remind each other that when we descend the dark lonely valley of pain and suffering we rise up to know new heights of joy.

When we know the painful sting of death, we live in the hope of the resurrection.

Yeah, we look for hope in finding a cure for cancer. But don't hold out for finding real hope in a cure.

Suffering will never end in this life because it's turning our despairing hearts to see the cross behind us and living hope before us.

We will only find real hope in a caring Creator who holds us and sustains us in the suffering because He suffered for us in our stead. The Man of Sorrows bore our sickness and carried our sorrows.

As we study the roadmap to suffering we know we will see him as He has gone before us and joins us in the journey. He cups us in the palm of His hand.

No matter our lonely road, our suffering, our bitter cup, He offers living hope. He swallowed the bitter cup whole and offers us the sweet victory.

He did more than shave his head to walk the desperate journey with us. He bowed His head and gave His life so we might walk with Him.

We'll look for Him in the suffering and we'll see the Saviour shining His radiant glory.

{Also linking with Coffee For Your Heart}