I knew I should have fixed it when I had the chance, but I didn’t and now I can’t fix it. Oh, the shame, the embarrassment of my mistake! Had I known where it would lead I would have made sure to fix things right away.
It all started about two years ago. One morning, while getting ready for church, there it was. It was only about an inch long, but it stuck up from the middle of my scalp like a beacon…my first white hair. At first, I was thrilled. “It’s a white hair and not a gray hair! I’m going to have beautiful white hair!” I thought excitedly.
Then reality hit. “It’s a white hair! I’m too young for this to happen! I’m only 40-something! No, no, no! This can’t be happening to me!” Without giving it much thought, I pulled open the medicine cabinet door, grabbed the tweezers, and with one quick tug the dreaded hair was gone.
“Phew! That was close!” I sighed and felt triumphant that I had stopped the progression of my hair turning white.
A couple of weeks later, “Whitey” was back. I knew my hair grew fast, but this was ridiculous! Once again, the tweezers quickly brought death to Whitey.
I was born with strawberry blonde hair. (Before the blonde jokes start, I have to remind you that I am more “strawberry” than blonde!) There were days growing up that my hair would look really red and days it would look very blonde. Hairdressers thought I dyed it and when I told them I never had, they made sure to tell me that women would “kill” to have my hair color. Well, they could have it! I was red-head enough that my uncle Glenn would call me “Red,” which I hated, and my dad would call me “Pumpkin head,” which I also hated. I often dreamed of being a brunette with naturally curly hair. Instead I had two toned hair that was straight as a board and as thick as three heads worth of hair.
Now you think it would be a blessing to have really thick hair. It’s not. It’s a curse! I couldn’t wear the “cool” banana clip combs that were popular in the 80’s. I broke five of them trying to get my hair in one before I gave up. I had to wear super heavy coated rubber bands on my ponytails because the regular kind would break too easily. When I wore my hair up, we had to put so many hairpins in my bun that I felt like I was carrying three extra pounds on my head. Perms were a nightmare!! Because I like to keep my hair fairly long, one perm packet isn’t enough. Usually, because of the thickness and the length, three perm packets were used, and getting the perm was an all day affair.
Now, here I am, a forty-something strawberry blonde who has never dyed her hair, hasn’t bothered with a perm for 13 years, and has faithfully trimmed dead ends, kept it conditioned and cleaned and how does my hair reward me? It starts to turn white! Ugh!
Well, back to my current dilemma. About a week ago, I saw that Whitey had returned. I decided to let it go. Besides, it was only about an inch long. I should have known better! Whitey took that opportunity to invite his friends. “Snowball,” “Marshmallow,” and “Cool Whip” have made their appearance and I’m sure their friends are on their way.
Will I condemn them all to death? No. I’m beginning to eye the 50-something years (though I still have a couple of years till then). I may as well embrace my new additions and give them the same love and attention I have given their predecessors. Besides, this is a sign of maturity, right?
Psalm 71:18 says, “Even when I am old and gray, do not forsake me, my God, till I declare your power to the next generation, your mighty acts to all who are to come.” So, I guess I’ll embrace these old white hairs. After all, I still have a lot of teaching to do with my daughter and my grandchildren in the future. Just because I’m starting to look old doesn’t mean I have to act old either! And, I know that even though I’m growing older, God will still be with me wherever I go.