May 12, 2005
My grandson and I had a great time last night. We had a pajama party with snacks and watched Milo and Otis together. Even after the movie, his big brown eyes stayed open until almost midnight. The last thing he did before he fell asleep was to give me a huge smile.
This morning as I was standing at the sink washing up our breakfast dishes, he said, “Grandma, I love your feet. I love your legs. I love your back. I love your arms. I love your hands. I love your lips. I love your ears. I love your eyes. I love your hair.” And then, “Grandma, I love everything about you.”
The Lord knew how down I have been about myself lately and sent me a message of unconditional love through my grandson.
Thursday, May 12, 2005
Monday, April 18, 2005
Green Jelly Bean
April 18, 2005
I arrived at the school early. Children were still playing on the playground so I looked for my grandson as I drove by. I spotted him about the same time he spotted me. His face lit up and he excitedly announced, “My grandma is here.” He was happily surprised; especially since my picking him up was unexpected.
I was first in line for kid pick-up. My grandson was still beaming when his teacher walked him to my car. As soon as he was in my car, my grandson couldn’t wait to hand me a special gift he clutched in his closed fist. His hand, still a bit grimy looking from his playground time, opened to reveal a green jellybean. “Here Grandma, I brought this for you.” he proudly announced.
I have a thing about green candy. I do not like green candy. Not green jellybeans, green gumdrops, green Lifesavers, green gumballs or anything green. I even scoop around the green of rainbow sherbet. The taste of green candy reminds me of the smell of cleaning products. Where I got this idea I do not know. But this has been a quirk of mine for most of my life.
In spite of my green candy aversion, without hesitation I took the lone green jellybean offered to me from the palm of my grandson’s hand and popped it into my mouth. I don’t know where he got the green jellybean. I don’t know how many other jellybeans he had. I never saw him with any more. I think he only had two since he told me he ate an orange one before he came outside. What I do know is that green jellybean was the best tasting candy I have had in a long time because it was flavored with the love of a dear grandson wanting to share something good with his grandma. I thanked him for sharing with me.
Later I thought of the many times God offers us a “green jellybean”. Perhaps we reject the “green jellybean” because it is not our preference, our choice, our favorite thing, or our plan. A blessing is missed because we do not view the “green jellybean” as a love offering from our heavenly Father for our ultimate good. Lord, please help me to accept and appreciate the “green jellybeans” of life. Help me to keep enjoying all candies that are colored with love, even if they are green...
I arrived at the school early. Children were still playing on the playground so I looked for my grandson as I drove by. I spotted him about the same time he spotted me. His face lit up and he excitedly announced, “My grandma is here.” He was happily surprised; especially since my picking him up was unexpected.
I was first in line for kid pick-up. My grandson was still beaming when his teacher walked him to my car. As soon as he was in my car, my grandson couldn’t wait to hand me a special gift he clutched in his closed fist. His hand, still a bit grimy looking from his playground time, opened to reveal a green jellybean. “Here Grandma, I brought this for you.” he proudly announced.
I have a thing about green candy. I do not like green candy. Not green jellybeans, green gumdrops, green Lifesavers, green gumballs or anything green. I even scoop around the green of rainbow sherbet. The taste of green candy reminds me of the smell of cleaning products. Where I got this idea I do not know. But this has been a quirk of mine for most of my life.
In spite of my green candy aversion, without hesitation I took the lone green jellybean offered to me from the palm of my grandson’s hand and popped it into my mouth. I don’t know where he got the green jellybean. I don’t know how many other jellybeans he had. I never saw him with any more. I think he only had two since he told me he ate an orange one before he came outside. What I do know is that green jellybean was the best tasting candy I have had in a long time because it was flavored with the love of a dear grandson wanting to share something good with his grandma. I thanked him for sharing with me.
Later I thought of the many times God offers us a “green jellybean”. Perhaps we reject the “green jellybean” because it is not our preference, our choice, our favorite thing, or our plan. A blessing is missed because we do not view the “green jellybean” as a love offering from our heavenly Father for our ultimate good. Lord, please help me to accept and appreciate the “green jellybeans” of life. Help me to keep enjoying all candies that are colored with love, even if they are green...
Wednesday, January 5, 2005
Plain little sparrow for my team
January 5, 2005
While my parents were napping, I slipped outside to the front porch to sit in a cozy rocker with my book in hand. I was soon pleasantly distracted by the amazing bird activity in the natural surroundings of the log home. My father has several bird feeders and a birdbath. And all locales were busy and humming with great hustle and bustle. I counted at least three cardinal families. What a beautiful majestic bird! I noticed other birds seemed to give the cardinal reverence. Anytime the cardinal flew onto the bird feeder, the other birds would retreat. A sparrow was busily enjoying a rambunctious splashing in the birdbath but hastily exited when the cardinal came to call. How interesting to see the bird kingdom has class recognition.
Personally, as beautiful as I find the bright red cardinal, I am drawn to the plain little brown sparrow. Ever since Ethel Waters sang the song, His Eye is on the Sparrow, I have been fascinated with the sparrow.
On my birthday, my youngest daughter gave me a china figurine of two sparrows sitting on a base with the nameplate with the engraving, “His Eye Is On The Sparrow” for my birthday. And it plays the song as well. One of the sparrows is a ‘mommy’ and one appears to be the ‘baby bird.’ It is an exceptionally special gift as it signifies a sentimental bond between my daughter and me and that she found a gift that has one of my favorite songs. The song encourages me so because it reminds me that as the Lord has His eye on the sparrow, I know he watches me too. If a seemingly insignificant little sparrow is important to God, then even more so are we. We were created in His image and He loves and cares for us through all of life trials and times.
While my parents were napping, I slipped outside to the front porch to sit in a cozy rocker with my book in hand. I was soon pleasantly distracted by the amazing bird activity in the natural surroundings of the log home. My father has several bird feeders and a birdbath. And all locales were busy and humming with great hustle and bustle. I counted at least three cardinal families. What a beautiful majestic bird! I noticed other birds seemed to give the cardinal reverence. Anytime the cardinal flew onto the bird feeder, the other birds would retreat. A sparrow was busily enjoying a rambunctious splashing in the birdbath but hastily exited when the cardinal came to call. How interesting to see the bird kingdom has class recognition.
Personally, as beautiful as I find the bright red cardinal, I am drawn to the plain little brown sparrow. Ever since Ethel Waters sang the song, His Eye is on the Sparrow, I have been fascinated with the sparrow.
On my birthday, my youngest daughter gave me a china figurine of two sparrows sitting on a base with the nameplate with the engraving, “His Eye Is On The Sparrow” for my birthday. And it plays the song as well. One of the sparrows is a ‘mommy’ and one appears to be the ‘baby bird.’ It is an exceptionally special gift as it signifies a sentimental bond between my daughter and me and that she found a gift that has one of my favorite songs. The song encourages me so because it reminds me that as the Lord has His eye on the sparrow, I know he watches me too. If a seemingly insignificant little sparrow is important to God, then even more so are we. We were created in His image and He loves and cares for us through all of life trials and times.
Monday, October 25, 2004
The princess bride is my piggy tailed girl.
October 25, 2004
Here comes the bride. The sunny skies were a perfect backdrop for outdoor bridal portrait shots. Our youngest daughter the bride looked like the beautiful princess she always wanted to be as a little girl. She attracted approving glances from admiring bystanders and received numerous verbal compliments. A small private school outing of senior high girls from out of town asked to pose with the princess bride. A little girl with her daddy stopped in her tracks, awestruck to encounter a real life princess. I was reminded of how this is when it begins, the childhood yearning to be a princess bride.
The afternoon of bridal poses ended at our park, a park just a mile from our home. Our park, where we have many family memories beginning when our firstborn had her first swing on its swing set as a toddler. Our park, the place of our traditional summertime birthday parties since our daughter’s second birthday. Our park where we have had family picnics, reunions, and even a Thanksgiving dinner. Our park that my girls and I walked to as a little outing. Our park, where the girls delighted in feeding the ducks our leftover stale bread. Our park, where we rescued an Easter discard, a little yellow duck that became our grand white duck Daisy. Our park, where we now lap the pond for exercise at a brisk walking pace. Our park, where our grandchildren are learning the magic of its playground and pond.
Yes, it is our park and today another memory is added. I will always remember the visions of my grown up girl twirling round and round in her stunning wedding dress, posing for the photographer, as the essence of her dreams is captured on film.
I pray the Lord will grant all her hopes and dreams with a long life and countless blessings. And in my heart, she’ll always be my little piggy tailed girl.
Here comes the bride. The sunny skies were a perfect backdrop for outdoor bridal portrait shots. Our youngest daughter the bride looked like the beautiful princess she always wanted to be as a little girl. She attracted approving glances from admiring bystanders and received numerous verbal compliments. A small private school outing of senior high girls from out of town asked to pose with the princess bride. A little girl with her daddy stopped in her tracks, awestruck to encounter a real life princess. I was reminded of how this is when it begins, the childhood yearning to be a princess bride.
The afternoon of bridal poses ended at our park, a park just a mile from our home. Our park, where we have many family memories beginning when our firstborn had her first swing on its swing set as a toddler. Our park, the place of our traditional summertime birthday parties since our daughter’s second birthday. Our park where we have had family picnics, reunions, and even a Thanksgiving dinner. Our park that my girls and I walked to as a little outing. Our park, where the girls delighted in feeding the ducks our leftover stale bread. Our park, where we rescued an Easter discard, a little yellow duck that became our grand white duck Daisy. Our park, where we now lap the pond for exercise at a brisk walking pace. Our park, where our grandchildren are learning the magic of its playground and pond.
Yes, it is our park and today another memory is added. I will always remember the visions of my grown up girl twirling round and round in her stunning wedding dress, posing for the photographer, as the essence of her dreams is captured on film.
I pray the Lord will grant all her hopes and dreams with a long life and countless blessings. And in my heart, she’ll always be my little piggy tailed girl.
Friday, October 8, 2004
The bald lady talks
October 8, 2004
Being bald has changed my life in more ways than one. I have added a new routine when I come home. First thing I always do when I come in the door is I always kick my shoes off because I dislike wearing shoes in the house. I am a barefoot or slipper girl. Now besides kicking off my shoes, I have added the new routine of flipping my wig off. I dislike wearing it in the house if I don’t have to because it is like wearing a hat and I am not a hat girl.
One day I flipped my wig off and it happened to land on the nearest surface which was the dining room table. I forgot about it and went on about my business. Upon re-entering the dining room later, I was shocked to see our cat, Sam lying on my nicely decorated autumn theme dining room table. The nerve of that cat, I thought. I indignantly yelled, “Sam!” I felt very foolish when I realized it was my wig. So the dining room table isn’t the best place to flip my wig. I tried roosting it on the two-shelf unit above the commode in our bathroom. But then I realized as frequently as the lid is left up, I’d hate to retrieve and wear a wig that had landed in the toilet bowl. I’ve decided the bedpost might be a safer place.
Not having to fix my hair in the morning is a real time saver. Being bald is also a money saver because I don’t need any hair spray, mousse, shampoo and conditioner in the quantities as before. Also avoiding looking in the mirror is a new habit I am acquiring. This morning I forgot and glanced in the mirror, expecting to see my usual morning rooster hair. I was surprised again by my new look.
It helps me that my husband has a great attitude about my baldness. If he had an attitude like he couldn’t wait till it grows back in, I would feel even more miserable. He rubs my head affectionately and complimented me on my nicely shaped small head. I was sure he was going to think it was huge because the starkness of the baldness makes it seem big to me.
My Top Ten List Why Being Bald Ain’t All Bad
10• My hair isn’t in my way when I am putting on my make up.
9. Not having to fix my hair saves time.
8. My hair curlers are not cluttering the countertop anymore.
7• I don’t need to brush stray hairs off my shoulders.
6• I am saving a fortune on hair spray, shampoo, conditioner and mousse.
5• I don’t have to blow dry my hair after a shower.
4. I don’t have morning hair when I get up in the morning.
3. I am not inhaling hair spray on a daily basis.
2. Bad hair days are a thing of the past.
1• I can flip my wig anytime I want to.
A sense of humor helps me get through this difficult time. My wig is exceptionally nice and most people don’t realize it is a wig until I mention it. I am naturally conscious of it being a wig because I feel it sitting on my head like a hat. That is why I like it off as soon as I get home. It is true that your heat goes out your head. Sometimes my head gets very cold and I feel chilled to my bones. Then I put on a soft chenille hat and warm myself up. I am less shy about other people seeing me my baldness in my home but I am not thinking about going out in public without my wig. The other day someone was about to compliment me on my ‘highlights’ and couldn’t believe it was my wig. So I flipped it off and showed her. Even my doctor didn’t realize I had lost all of my hair until I told him. So I am thankful to have an alternative plan that makes me feel as normal as possible when I go out. I calculated it would be about a year from now before I have a normal head of hair again. It seems like forever to me.
January 26, 2005
I went to work since all I have to do is sit at a desk. I felt so bad though that I didn’t bother to wear my wig. I didn’t feel like coping with it too, so I just wore my chenille hat. I ended up taking that off since my head got too hot. Today I just didn’t care about the baldness factor.
When I went to get lunch, I was sitting in the drive-thru when an unkempt man in a wheel chair rolled up to each of the cars waiting in line and begged for money. When he reached my car, he addressed me as SIR, due to my bald head I presume. Amazingly, that did not devastate me.
This incident just shows me how much I have changed from my initial response concerning going bald. I was never going to go out without my wig. I even wondered at first if I really wanted my family to see me bald. I changed my idea about that really quickly. I sure wouldn’t want to wear my wig around the house twenty-four seven.
On our trip to Florida, I traveled with my chenille hat rather than my wig. It is much softer and more comfortable than my wig. We stopped to eat lunch at Shoney’s and it was the first time I had worn my chenille hat into a restaurant. But soon my head became too hot so I took of my hat. My husband was surprised since I had always been so adamant about hiding my baldness from the view of others. I didn’t want people seeing me as cancer patient. But being out of town gave me a cushion of comfort. I didn’t know any of these people and wouldn’t see them again so I didn’t really care if they saw me bald.
My friends too, have seen me bald on several occasions. I even took my wig off after a fellowship at church last week. It was a spontaneous moment and I don’t know what possessed me. I was talking to a soldier that had just come home from a year in Iraq. I told him my hair was much shorter then his and suddenly just flipped off my wig to show him. Many people at church remark about how good I look, maybe meaning how I don’t look like I am going through cancer treatment. Standing there with my bald head must have brought a dose of reality to a few people, because I became the recipient of several hugs. Hugs are always nice though for whatever reason.
April 7, 2005
I stepped even further out of my comfort zone. I made an unexpected lunch date with a good friend and since I had left the house without my wig, I went to Applebee’s with my ultra short-cropped hair. I mean I am talking about the shortest buzz cut possible. I felt quite conspicuous as I arrived first and walked to our table alone. When my friend arrived and was looking for me, the hostess asked her if her friend was the one with the short hair. Well, that is better than bald.
April 20, 2005
Since the weather got warmer, I am not wearing my chenille hats anymore. I mainly wear my wig only on Sundays now. The hair growth I have is sufficient enough to give me more guts to go out in public without my wig. I remember the first time I drove my car without my wig. I felt totally conspicuous. Now I feel less and less conspicuous. The list is growing of all the places I have gone without my wig. I marvel at how I have changed about this hair issue. I didn’t want to stand out with my cancer slash chemo look. I have been trying to figure out if my attitude is healthier, braver or I don’t care anymore because I am just plain worn out. Maybe it is all of the above.
Being bald has changed my life in more ways than one. I have added a new routine when I come home. First thing I always do when I come in the door is I always kick my shoes off because I dislike wearing shoes in the house. I am a barefoot or slipper girl. Now besides kicking off my shoes, I have added the new routine of flipping my wig off. I dislike wearing it in the house if I don’t have to because it is like wearing a hat and I am not a hat girl.
One day I flipped my wig off and it happened to land on the nearest surface which was the dining room table. I forgot about it and went on about my business. Upon re-entering the dining room later, I was shocked to see our cat, Sam lying on my nicely decorated autumn theme dining room table. The nerve of that cat, I thought. I indignantly yelled, “Sam!” I felt very foolish when I realized it was my wig. So the dining room table isn’t the best place to flip my wig. I tried roosting it on the two-shelf unit above the commode in our bathroom. But then I realized as frequently as the lid is left up, I’d hate to retrieve and wear a wig that had landed in the toilet bowl. I’ve decided the bedpost might be a safer place.
Not having to fix my hair in the morning is a real time saver. Being bald is also a money saver because I don’t need any hair spray, mousse, shampoo and conditioner in the quantities as before. Also avoiding looking in the mirror is a new habit I am acquiring. This morning I forgot and glanced in the mirror, expecting to see my usual morning rooster hair. I was surprised again by my new look.
It helps me that my husband has a great attitude about my baldness. If he had an attitude like he couldn’t wait till it grows back in, I would feel even more miserable. He rubs my head affectionately and complimented me on my nicely shaped small head. I was sure he was going to think it was huge because the starkness of the baldness makes it seem big to me.
My Top Ten List Why Being Bald Ain’t All Bad
10• My hair isn’t in my way when I am putting on my make up.
9. Not having to fix my hair saves time.
8. My hair curlers are not cluttering the countertop anymore.
7• I don’t need to brush stray hairs off my shoulders.
6• I am saving a fortune on hair spray, shampoo, conditioner and mousse.
5• I don’t have to blow dry my hair after a shower.
4. I don’t have morning hair when I get up in the morning.
3. I am not inhaling hair spray on a daily basis.
2. Bad hair days are a thing of the past.
1• I can flip my wig anytime I want to.
A sense of humor helps me get through this difficult time. My wig is exceptionally nice and most people don’t realize it is a wig until I mention it. I am naturally conscious of it being a wig because I feel it sitting on my head like a hat. That is why I like it off as soon as I get home. It is true that your heat goes out your head. Sometimes my head gets very cold and I feel chilled to my bones. Then I put on a soft chenille hat and warm myself up. I am less shy about other people seeing me my baldness in my home but I am not thinking about going out in public without my wig. The other day someone was about to compliment me on my ‘highlights’ and couldn’t believe it was my wig. So I flipped it off and showed her. Even my doctor didn’t realize I had lost all of my hair until I told him. So I am thankful to have an alternative plan that makes me feel as normal as possible when I go out. I calculated it would be about a year from now before I have a normal head of hair again. It seems like forever to me.
January 26, 2005
I went to work since all I have to do is sit at a desk. I felt so bad though that I didn’t bother to wear my wig. I didn’t feel like coping with it too, so I just wore my chenille hat. I ended up taking that off since my head got too hot. Today I just didn’t care about the baldness factor.
When I went to get lunch, I was sitting in the drive-thru when an unkempt man in a wheel chair rolled up to each of the cars waiting in line and begged for money. When he reached my car, he addressed me as SIR, due to my bald head I presume. Amazingly, that did not devastate me.
This incident just shows me how much I have changed from my initial response concerning going bald. I was never going to go out without my wig. I even wondered at first if I really wanted my family to see me bald. I changed my idea about that really quickly. I sure wouldn’t want to wear my wig around the house twenty-four seven.
On our trip to Florida, I traveled with my chenille hat rather than my wig. It is much softer and more comfortable than my wig. We stopped to eat lunch at Shoney’s and it was the first time I had worn my chenille hat into a restaurant. But soon my head became too hot so I took of my hat. My husband was surprised since I had always been so adamant about hiding my baldness from the view of others. I didn’t want people seeing me as cancer patient. But being out of town gave me a cushion of comfort. I didn’t know any of these people and wouldn’t see them again so I didn’t really care if they saw me bald.
My friends too, have seen me bald on several occasions. I even took my wig off after a fellowship at church last week. It was a spontaneous moment and I don’t know what possessed me. I was talking to a soldier that had just come home from a year in Iraq. I told him my hair was much shorter then his and suddenly just flipped off my wig to show him. Many people at church remark about how good I look, maybe meaning how I don’t look like I am going through cancer treatment. Standing there with my bald head must have brought a dose of reality to a few people, because I became the recipient of several hugs. Hugs are always nice though for whatever reason.
April 7, 2005
I stepped even further out of my comfort zone. I made an unexpected lunch date with a good friend and since I had left the house without my wig, I went to Applebee’s with my ultra short-cropped hair. I mean I am talking about the shortest buzz cut possible. I felt quite conspicuous as I arrived first and walked to our table alone. When my friend arrived and was looking for me, the hostess asked her if her friend was the one with the short hair. Well, that is better than bald.
April 20, 2005
Since the weather got warmer, I am not wearing my chenille hats anymore. I mainly wear my wig only on Sundays now. The hair growth I have is sufficient enough to give me more guts to go out in public without my wig. I remember the first time I drove my car without my wig. I felt totally conspicuous. Now I feel less and less conspicuous. The list is growing of all the places I have gone without my wig. I marvel at how I have changed about this hair issue. I didn’t want to stand out with my cancer slash chemo look. I have been trying to figure out if my attitude is healthier, braver or I don’t care anymore because I am just plain worn out. Maybe it is all of the above.
Monday, October 4, 2004
Becoming a teacup
October 4, 2004
Tonight my youngest daughter read me a devotional from her book, 15 Minute Devotions for Couples by Bob and Emilie Barnes. The title of the devotional, “Not Yet” sparked her interest and ended up touching both of our hearts. I will never see a teacup again without thinking of this lesson.
James 1:2-4 Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.
“Not Yet"
There was a couple who used to go to England to shop in the beautiful stores. This was their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. They both liked antiques and pottery and especially teacups. One day in this beautiful shop they saw a beautiful teacup. They said, “May we see that? We’ve never seen one quite so beautiful.” As the lady handed it to them, suddenly the teacup spoke. “You don’t understand,” it said. “I haven’t always been a teacup. There was a time when I was red and I was clay. My master took me and rolled me and patted me over and over and I yelled out, “let me alone.’ But he only smiled, ‘Not yet.’
“Then I was placed on a spinning wheel,” the teacup said, “and suddenly I was spun around and around. ‘Stop it! I’m getting dizzy!” I screamed. But the master only nodded and said, “Not yet.”
Then he put me in the oven. I never felt such heat. I wondered why he wanted to burn me, and I yelled, and I knocked at that door. I could see him through the opening and I could read his lips as he shook his head, ‘Not yet."
Finally the door opened, he put me on the shelf, and I began to cool. “There, that’s better,” I said. And he brushed and painted me all over. The fumes were horrible. I thought I would gag. “Stop it, stop it!’ I cried. He only nodded, ‘Not yet.’
Then suddenly he put me back into the oven, not like the first one. This was twice as hot and I knew I would suffocate. I begged. I pleaded. I screamed. I cried. All the time I could see him through the opening nodding his head, saying, ‘Not yet.’
“Then I knew there wasn’t any hope. I would never make it. I was ready to give up. But the door opened and he took me out and placed me on the shelf. One hour later he handed me a mirror and said, ‘Look at you.’ And I did. I said, “That’s not me; that couldn’t be me. It’s beautiful. I’m beautiful.”
“I want you to remember, then," he said, “I know it hurt to be rolled and patted, but if I just left you, you’d have dried up. I know it made you dizzy to spin around on the wheel, but if I had stopped, you would have crumbled. I know it hurt and it was hot and disagreeable in the oven, but if I hadn’t put you there, you would have cracked. I know the fumes were bad when I brushed and painted you all over, but if I hadn’t done that, you never would have hardened. You would not have had any color in your life, and if I hadn’t put you back in that second oven, you wouldn’t survive for very long because the hardness would not have held. Now you are a finished product. You are what I had in mind when I first began with you.’”
Lord, thank you for the trials you bring to our life because we know it is for our ultimate good. Even when we feel like screaming or rebelling, may we always be reminded you are in control and be able to see the greater beauty in the teacup of our life.
Tonight my youngest daughter read me a devotional from her book, 15 Minute Devotions for Couples by Bob and Emilie Barnes. The title of the devotional, “Not Yet” sparked her interest and ended up touching both of our hearts. I will never see a teacup again without thinking of this lesson.
James 1:2-4 Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.
“Not Yet"
There was a couple who used to go to England to shop in the beautiful stores. This was their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. They both liked antiques and pottery and especially teacups. One day in this beautiful shop they saw a beautiful teacup. They said, “May we see that? We’ve never seen one quite so beautiful.” As the lady handed it to them, suddenly the teacup spoke. “You don’t understand,” it said. “I haven’t always been a teacup. There was a time when I was red and I was clay. My master took me and rolled me and patted me over and over and I yelled out, “let me alone.’ But he only smiled, ‘Not yet.’
“Then I was placed on a spinning wheel,” the teacup said, “and suddenly I was spun around and around. ‘Stop it! I’m getting dizzy!” I screamed. But the master only nodded and said, “Not yet.”
Then he put me in the oven. I never felt such heat. I wondered why he wanted to burn me, and I yelled, and I knocked at that door. I could see him through the opening and I could read his lips as he shook his head, ‘Not yet."
Finally the door opened, he put me on the shelf, and I began to cool. “There, that’s better,” I said. And he brushed and painted me all over. The fumes were horrible. I thought I would gag. “Stop it, stop it!’ I cried. He only nodded, ‘Not yet.’
Then suddenly he put me back into the oven, not like the first one. This was twice as hot and I knew I would suffocate. I begged. I pleaded. I screamed. I cried. All the time I could see him through the opening nodding his head, saying, ‘Not yet.’
“Then I knew there wasn’t any hope. I would never make it. I was ready to give up. But the door opened and he took me out and placed me on the shelf. One hour later he handed me a mirror and said, ‘Look at you.’ And I did. I said, “That’s not me; that couldn’t be me. It’s beautiful. I’m beautiful.”
“I want you to remember, then," he said, “I know it hurt to be rolled and patted, but if I just left you, you’d have dried up. I know it made you dizzy to spin around on the wheel, but if I had stopped, you would have crumbled. I know it hurt and it was hot and disagreeable in the oven, but if I hadn’t put you there, you would have cracked. I know the fumes were bad when I brushed and painted you all over, but if I hadn’t done that, you never would have hardened. You would not have had any color in your life, and if I hadn’t put you back in that second oven, you wouldn’t survive for very long because the hardness would not have held. Now you are a finished product. You are what I had in mind when I first began with you.’”
Lord, thank you for the trials you bring to our life because we know it is for our ultimate good. Even when we feel like screaming or rebelling, may we always be reminded you are in control and be able to see the greater beauty in the teacup of our life.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Good-bye Hair.....I miss you.
September 28, 2004
Today is the day that I decided to let my hair go. I managed to make it through to the weekend. I only combed it once every morning for a week and sprayed it liberally to keep it in place. There was no way that I could wash it because I am quite certain it would have fallen out in drastic clumps.
I drove my car over the ridge to my daughter’s home with the sunroof and windows open, letting my hair blow in the breeze, one more time. Her mother-in-law, who so graciously cut and styled my hair in a shorter version last week, once again graciously, helped me. She buzzed the remainder of my hair off. There is no describing the feeling of hearing that buzzing noise coming to remove your crowning glory. Afterwards, she kindly asked if I would like to see how it looked in a mirror or just put my wig on. I opted for the wig. I figured I would rather mourn alone.
Now I look like a bona fide cancer patient. It is one thing to know you are one, to be medically treated as one but it is one difficult thing on the psychic to look like one. Yes, I know and have been reminded that being bald and sporting a ‘concentration camp do’ is temporary. But it is several months temporary. And I miss my hair.
Today is the day that I decided to let my hair go. I managed to make it through to the weekend. I only combed it once every morning for a week and sprayed it liberally to keep it in place. There was no way that I could wash it because I am quite certain it would have fallen out in drastic clumps.
I drove my car over the ridge to my daughter’s home with the sunroof and windows open, letting my hair blow in the breeze, one more time. Her mother-in-law, who so graciously cut and styled my hair in a shorter version last week, once again graciously, helped me. She buzzed the remainder of my hair off. There is no describing the feeling of hearing that buzzing noise coming to remove your crowning glory. Afterwards, she kindly asked if I would like to see how it looked in a mirror or just put my wig on. I opted for the wig. I figured I would rather mourn alone.
Now I look like a bona fide cancer patient. It is one thing to know you are one, to be medically treated as one but it is one difficult thing on the psychic to look like one. Yes, I know and have been reminded that being bald and sporting a ‘concentration camp do’ is temporary. But it is several months temporary. And I miss my hair.
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