Because today is my uncle John's 73rd birthday. He was buried yesterday. He died four days ago. He was diagnosed with cancer about 3 months ago. Because my niece died a few weeks ago at 25 because a military doctor misdiagnosed her. Now her little boy has no mommy. Because I have a friend having a biopsy today and another having one next Tuesday. Because one of my best friends has a broken heart that her mother is on chemo and her grandmother stopped treatments because it wasn't working.
I. Hate. Cancer.
If you've ever been touched by cancer, raise your hand. Thought so. Me too. Too many times and right now more than ever.
So what did you do today and how did it come to be, you might ask. Well, when I was pregnant with our youngest (and last child, I might add), my hair grew like I dipped my head in Miracle Gro. I've always had long-ish hair but figured that if I was ever going to grow it out to donate, this was the time. Now or never. I was, after all, 42 and waaaaay too old to have long hair. Now, two years later at 44, and really way too old to have long hair, it was finally time. Locks of Love accepts donations of hair, 10" and longer to make wigs for underprivileged little girls. The thought of being able to produce something that could make such a difference to a child was something that...well, how could I not? The Lord has blessed me more than I deserve and how could I not use this opportunity to be a blessing to someone else? I can only imagine what it must be like for a mother to have gone through such a battle with her child and after all of the chemo and radiation and sickness...to see the smile on her baby's face when they slip something onto her sweet little head that makes her feel almost human again. Something that we all take for granted yet, to her mommy, makes her look a little more like the little girl she remembers before that terrible monster attacked her precious body. It takes a lot of pony tails to make just one wig for a little girl but at least it's something. That little girl will never know who I am or how many days I fussed because it was so crazy hot or it couldn't be colored or stuck to my lipstick every time I rolled down the window in the car but it was worth every humid and windy day. Hopefully what she will know is that there are people out there who care enough to do just a little something. And maybe one day, she'll get the good news from the doctor that she is cancer-free, grow up and have a family of her own and do the same for another little girl. But the only difference will be that hot and windy days wont' be a bother but will instead be a pleasent reminder of more trying times. Of course, I'll never know if she gets that good news or not or if she ever has a baby of her own. All of this I do to glorify Him so I will lay it at His feet and walk away knowing that He is in control. Will donating hair bring back my family or cure my friends? No. But maybe somehow it will make some kind of a difference. It reminds me of the story about the starfish. A man goes to the beach and sees that there are thousands of starfish washed up on the shore. One by one, he picks them up and slings them back into the surf. Another man walks by and asks why he bothers because what he's doing doesn't make a difference. The first man picks up another starfish, holds it up and flings it back into the water. "It made a difference to that one."
