I love my hair.
Long. Short. Straight. Curly. In whatever form.
You see, I consider myself as one who doesn’t have the luxury of putting on anything fancy. Not that I’m against weaves and the likes, at least I remember once or twice when I had to ‘lend-a-hair’ from TIC (That Igbo Chic) when I was pregnant. In times like that, my hair is my worst enemy. Alice in Wonderland always tells me I’m crazy when I haven’t washed my hair. And it’s not hard to figure out why. It was one of those ‘boiling-out-of-the-pot’ hormone days when she came into the house and found me on the floor crying and screaming my lungs out:
“I WANT TO CUT MY HAIR . . . I’M TIRED. I WANT TO CUT MY HAIR”
I was rolling on the ground and pulling my hair like a deranged lunatic.
She was laughing 😱
It wasn’t funny 😡
I could have punched her in the face 💪🏽🤜🏽🤜🏽🤜🏽👊🏽
But I didn’t 😥
I’m nice like that 😇
We both might narrate this story differently; bottomline? I was acting all crazy when all I really needed was anybody from any salon to attend to me. It’s what pregnancy can do. Whatever! I still love my hair and I wouldn’t trade it for anything else. So when I put a comb through it, and as the comb exits my scalp, it takes with it a comb-full of my locks . . .
I. FREAK. OUT.
I really can’t afford to loose any strand. Yes, I use the word ‘afford‘ because these days the price of an alternative will break my bank, no thanks to our Indian, Peruvian, Lithuanian, and all our ‘ian’ sisters and family friends.
But when I really think about it and allow my deep side rise to the occasion, I draw only one conclusion: THERE IS BEAUTY IN HAIR-LOSS . . . yes, my heart warms up every time I see a strand of my hair on the floor, or in the comb as the case may be. And this is why:
“But not a single sparrow can fall to the ground without your Father knowing it. And the very hairs on your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are more valuable to God than a whole flock of sparrows.” Matthew 10: 29-31
From the very first time I allowed this verse sink into my thick skull, I have become more aware of hair strands. If my Heavenly Father knows when a single sparrow falls to the ground, considering how many sparrows there must be in this world, then he must know when a strand of my hair falls to the ground too. After all, He says He knows how many there are. And yes, He does. Isn’t that just heartwarming? To be loved by One who keeps tabs on the strands of your hair?
So at this point, it’s almost like I don’t mind letting them fall.
I figure it’ll be like an alarm clock ringing in heaven beside God’s ears each time it does. And each time it rings, He’s more aware of me than the seconds before. But then I think of those with a condition. Those who don’t have the luxury of having any hair at all. Those who have gone through the harsh reality of the side effects of chemo. Those who, because of some reason or the other have to watch their hair fall, for no fault of theirs. Is He aware of them too? And when all the hair is gone, does the alarm clock still ring?
“So, what do you think? With God on our side like this, how can we lose? If God didn’t hesitate to put everything on the line for us, embracing our condition and exposing himself to the worst by sending his own Son, is there anything else he wouldn’t gladly and freely do for us? And who would dare tangle with God by messing with one of God’s chosen? Who would dare even to point a finger? The One who died for us—who was raised to life for us!—is in the presence of God at this very moment sticking up for us. Do you think anyone is going to be able to drive a wedge between us and Christ’s love for us? There is no way! Not trouble, not hard times, not hatred, not hunger, not homelessness, not bullying threats, not backstabbing, not even the worst sins listed in Scripture . . . None of this fazes us because Jesus loves us. I’m absolutely convinced that nothing—nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable—absolutely nothing can get between us and God’s love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us.” (Romans 8: 31-39 MSG)
. . . not even hair-loss!
So let the hair fall.