Does God Care About Hair?

More than twenty years ago, the Lord God chose to pull our very deep roots out of the black dirt of Texas as He transplanted us to the red clay of Georgia.  I often tell women that I got from Texas to Georgia the same way as every other submissive wife – crying all the way.  I wept through Louisiana and Mississippi and was into the dry heaves by the time we got to Alabama.  I lamented to God that I could not leave my dear soul friend Patty. 

So, Patty and her family were promptly moved to New Mexico.  I pouted over leaving my middle sister Marsha.  Her husband, out of the blue, opted to move their family to his birthplace in Idaho.  Reluctantly, rather than see everyone I loved move from the state of Texas, like the prophet Jonah, I decided that Georgia looked pretty good.  Shortly after moving here, sure that it was the will of God for our lives, we were asked to move by my husband’s company to a small town in Sweden.  Much prayer went into our refusal.  The company was uninterested in God’s will for our lives and my husband was fired for our refusal to relocate.  He had been in upper level management as the Vice-President of Engineering, but the job market in Atlanta had begun to soften.  We were forced to move from our new home into a much smaller rental home. 

My husband worked multiple part-time jobs as he searched, relentlessly, for a new position, and I served in several staff positions at our church.  Our family scaled down what we spent on anything not essential, including haircuts and perms for me.  Doing without a haircut may seem to be very small to some; however, I have strong-willed hair, with a mind of its own.  It does strange things all by itself.  I have no talent or gift to work with it myself, other than to keep it clean.  When a woman simply wants to look amazing, that is one thing; it is something else when you really don’t want to embarrass the Lord with whatever the hair has going on. 

I remember one Sunday morning, as I struggled with my hair and it was struggling back, I looked into the mirror, apologizing to my Lord as I looked at my unkempt hair.  I was appalled at what I saw, remembering that it was Friend Day at our church, and it was sure to be filled with new faces.  I taught a Sunday School class of about fifty women which I knew would surely increase that day to seventy-five or more.  I murmured to the Lord:  Father, would you look at this?  What are you going to do about this?  It’s bad.  I am so sorry, but it is the best I can do.  We just cannot afford a haircut or perm right now.  His sweet word, in Philippians 4:19, spoke in answer to my heart’s cry:  But my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus. 

Reluctantly, I gathered up my Bible, and, I confess, a little embarrassed, I headed to class, saying nothing to my husband or anyone else about my bad hair day.  I lived through my momentary humiliation and was blessed, as always, by the wonderful worship in song that day and the powerful message delivered by our Pastor.

Heading back to church that night was not nearly as difficult as it had been that morning, as God assured me I could endure all things, even a bad hair day.  Our younger son was in town that weekend and rode to church with one of his friends.  When he came in from church later that evening, he walked into the family room.  “Mom,” he said, “some lady asked me to give you something.  She wouldn’t tell me her name.  She doesn’t want you to know who she is, and I didn’t know her.  She told me to tell you that she didn’t intend to come to church tonight but God woke her up from a nap and He told her to give this to you.  She said she wasn’t sure of why.  Maybe it was for something specific, for a dress, or maybe just a haircut.”With that he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a one hundred dollar bill and handed it to me. 

As I began to weep, overcome that my Heavenly Father had heard my plea that morning and responded so quickly, I was reminded that God knows the difference in our wants and our needs.  He cares about us, intimately, and provides for us, wonderfully.  That’s the kind of Father a believer has.  You might discount His wonderful and lavish nature as reserved for Sunday School teachers or preachers, but, in Acts 10:34, His Word tells us that He is no respecter of persons.  He doesn’t love a teacher more than a pupil, a mature believer more than a new believer, a young woman more than an older woman.  He loves each of us so much that He was willing to allow His only begotten Son to die in place.What a marvelous and giving Father we have! 

There are many people whom I like to think that I love enough that I would be willing to die for them.  However, there is no one I love enough that I would willingly offer either of my sons to die in their place.  If God so loved us that He supplied our need for salvation and a personal relationship with Him, what would ever cause us to doubt His provision of the little things?

© 2010 Gerry Sisk

(03/03/10)