There she sits, in her room alone, with a lump in her throat the size of Texas, all because she cut her hair too short. She hadn't planned it that way...but after the first cut was made there was no going back. She remembered how just yesterday she had learned how to do a fishtail braid, and how much she loved it. She remembered how she had finally been enjoying long hair.
It now sits just below her shoulders and is too short for many of her new favorite looks...but really, what's in a mane? Children are dying all over the world, millions of people are living in slavery right this minute, and she's feeling sorry because her hair is too short? Really?
She felt her face grow hot as she considered her own vanity and silliness. She got a lovely call from a dear friend and after a good while she determined that her disappointment in her new, "do," was due to her vanity. When she really stopped and thought about it she realized that she had been growing vain about her hair. Maybe this was God telling her to stop praising herself for her, "fine locks."
How many times she sat nearly in hysterics because of her unruly, uncooperative hair, and today she sits saddened that most of it is gone. Oh, such silly creatures we are!
And you know what? God has a lovely sense of humor.
Over and out,
P.S. Sorry, guys, I should have written a more descriptive post about the object of hair, but I really just needed to vent and guilt trip myself about my vanity and this seemed like a fine place to do that...haha. Love you all!