"It's a good hair day!"
"Love your hair!"
I'm on my way to Karla's to videotape the shaving of her head. Her doctors said her hair would be falling out by Day 13...man, they pegged it. She was able to pull it out by the handfuls today, so it's time. She wants this saved as a permanent record of what is taking place. My younger son was asking me, "I don't understand. Why does she want this on video?" And I tried to explain, but in so many ways, this is about our femaleness. I am just not sure that even my best words and my most thorough explanation could enable my 14-year-old son a glimpse of the female psyche and what is really going on here.
"She was born with a head full of hair!"
"Come let Momma fix your hair."
"You need some ribbons for your hair."
Over the past six weeks, only family and friends have known about Karla's cancer. Just the people she has chosen to tell, and of course, the people they have chosen to tell. But you certainly don't know she's sick by looking at her. If you were behind her at Kroger, you wouldn't know. If you passed her on the street, you wouldn't know. If you saw her at the pool with her kids, you wouldn't know. But once the locks are shorn--once the head is shaved--she will be clearly identified as a cancer patient.
"I HATE my hair!"
"But everyone else has highlights! Why can't I get highlights?"
"It's called a straight iron..."
I was at Hobby Lobby last week picking up some scrapbooking supplies, and a beautiful, hot pink Princess wall art caught my eye. It is obviously for a little girl's room, but I felt such a nudge from the Holy Spirit that I was to pick it up for Karla. It was unmistakable--one of those times when there was absolutely no confusion about what the Lord wanted me to do. I thought I was supposed to give it to her when we went for her second round of chemo tomorrow, but no--it's for tonight.
It's a collage of words, words that our Heavenly Father wants His daughter to hear and to remember:
Beloved, Holy, Princess, Treasured, Beautiful, Honored, Light, Daughter of the King, Cherished, Redeemed, Favored, Blessed, Daughter of our Father, Miracle
I pray Karla will read those words again and again, because this is the only identity that counts. Sure, she's been known as a daughter, a sister, a friend, a student, a tennis pro, a physical therapist assistant, a wife, a stepmom, a mother, and now, yes, a cancer patient. But when Abba Daddy looks at His little girl, He sees a Princess. He sees one who is washed in the Blood. He sees her journey. And He sees it up close.
|Karla with husband Doug, who showed his support by |
shaving his head too.
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