I left you at the end of Part I (here) with the saga of a really bad haircut, but you are probably all wondering what that had to do with sermons. So, here's the end of the story!
That fateful day, (a Friday) I cried on the way home from this bad haircut. Cried for the choppy locks that were sticking out all over. Cried that I was too wimpy to stop her and make her listen better. Cried that I was stupid enough to pay her full price and tip her (albeit very little! A girl's gotta have some dignity, come on!). Cried that I have to start all over again, with my growing out and with my search for a stylist. I don't even want to search for "The Perfect Stylist." I'll be happy to search for a really great one. I cried when I was drying it and when I was styling it. But soon, those tears turned to downright anger. And frustration. I was irritated. And angry. And I griped about it at Panera Bread that night with friends. Did I mention that I was angry?
I went church on Sunday morning. My friends who hadn't heard my sob story at Moms' Night Out on Friday night were complimenting my funky new cut. One very sweet friend even said she wished she could carry off a cut as short as mine. Pups N' Horses kept whispering in my ear, "Breathe! Breathe! It'll grow." I was trying hard not to stew and fume. I was trying hard to receive their complements and be gracious about it all. I was getting even madder at myself; frustrated at how this haircut wasn't just awful, it was ruining my ability to enjoy a Sunday morning worship service and fellowship with my church family! Angry that something as trivial (in the long view of things) as my hair was holding me back from peace and joy. OOOOOOh. I was ticked! Then my dear, wonderful Pastor Brother In Law got up to preach. The subject of the morning?
Forgiveness.
Ugh. Right away, I squirmed. I resisted. I tried to daydream. I doodled in my notes. And the first thing I said to Pups N' Horses when the service was over? "Well, I guess I really need to forgive that stylist." I was only 1/2 kidding - once I decided that I really must forgive her, I felt so much better. My hair is still way shorter than I intended. And it's still slightly uneven. But, I feel better about it. I can get ready in less than 45 minutes - hair, make-up and everything. And blowing it dry takes less than 5 minutes. But I'm not wallowing in unforgiveness. I'm choosing thankfulness. Like I said earlier, the checkbook is happy - and I'm thankful that I won't need another haircut for at least 3 or 4 months!
That fateful day, (a Friday) I cried on the way home from this bad haircut. Cried for the choppy locks that were sticking out all over. Cried that I was too wimpy to stop her and make her listen better. Cried that I was stupid enough to pay her full price and tip her (albeit very little! A girl's gotta have some dignity, come on!). Cried that I have to start all over again, with my growing out and with my search for a stylist. I don't even want to search for "The Perfect Stylist." I'll be happy to search for a really great one. I cried when I was drying it and when I was styling it. But soon, those tears turned to downright anger. And frustration. I was irritated. And angry. And I griped about it at Panera Bread that night with friends. Did I mention that I was angry?
I went church on Sunday morning. My friends who hadn't heard my sob story at Moms' Night Out on Friday night were complimenting my funky new cut. One very sweet friend even said she wished she could carry off a cut as short as mine. Pups N' Horses kept whispering in my ear, "Breathe! Breathe! It'll grow." I was trying hard not to stew and fume. I was trying hard to receive their complements and be gracious about it all. I was getting even madder at myself; frustrated at how this haircut wasn't just awful, it was ruining my ability to enjoy a Sunday morning worship service and fellowship with my church family! Angry that something as trivial (in the long view of things) as my hair was holding me back from peace and joy. OOOOOOh. I was ticked! Then my dear, wonderful Pastor Brother In Law got up to preach. The subject of the morning?
Forgiveness.
Ugh. Right away, I squirmed. I resisted. I tried to daydream. I doodled in my notes. And the first thing I said to Pups N' Horses when the service was over? "Well, I guess I really need to forgive that stylist." I was only 1/2 kidding - once I decided that I really must forgive her, I felt so much better. My hair is still way shorter than I intended. And it's still slightly uneven. But, I feel better about it. I can get ready in less than 45 minutes - hair, make-up and everything. And blowing it dry takes less than 5 minutes. But I'm not wallowing in unforgiveness. I'm choosing thankfulness. Like I said earlier, the checkbook is happy - and I'm thankful that I won't need another haircut for at least 3 or 4 months!
Oh, yeah. And I'm thankful that Pastor Brother In Law was obedient
to preach the Word. The Truth.
to preach the Word. The Truth.
4 comments:
You're right, I was wondering where the sermon came in. thanks for finishing the story...
Isn't it great how God straightens us out whenever we get frustrated. By the way, I like the new do and it's always SO nice when the checkbook is happy isn't it. Have a great day in our Lord.
Laura
I felt your pain all the way through - I had the same thing happen to me. I cried while I paid for the bad haircut. She kept apologizing. You see, it was a mistake. She was engrossed in a conversation and then I heard "oops! I have to even it out". I cried while she was fixing it. This happened a long time ago but the memories are still fresh. I did forgive. BTW, I love your blog. Virginia
I love your hair. I think it looks great and just think now you can grow it out even longer and really get what you want. I know it is hard to always see the good in things when your going through it. But look up there are better hair days coming.
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