Throwin' a fit...

On Friday of last week I had a had a hair appointment. I drive out to Conway to this cute little shop that I love to get my hair cut and highlighted. It is a little far to drive, about thirty five minutes, but it's very inexpensive and they do great work. Well apparently it's not inexpensive enough.

I come down stairs all excited about my hair appointment only to have my dream for the day shattered by the money man in our house. I come down stairs early that morning to find H on the computer doing "the money". This is almost never a good thing and it is usually a time a choose to disappear. Why would he be doing this just before my appointment with sweet bliss?

I love getting my hair done. It is a time I get to go alone and sit and receive some pampering, and we don't even need to mention how cute I am after.

Anyway, I come down stairs with so much joy for the day and yes I'm aware this is a little shallow a little self absorbed..... but then it happened.... I was crushed by the hair Nazi. If you are a Seinfeld fan and you remember the famous episode with the soup Nazi you are beginning to get a picture of how my morning was shattered. The money Nazi looks my way and says "NO HIGHLIGHT FOR YOU"!

What, no highlight?? No chunky blond streak that starts at the root?? Couldn't he have just waited until after my appointment? I know this would mean we would be eating mac and cheese, ramen and ice,for the next week, but we could sacrifice.....Right??

Hair Nazi was not feeling me on the sacrifice. So one quick phone call and a simple cancellation later and my day was crushed. Now I know this is letting some of you just a little to close to the wickedness of my flesh. I know there are those of you who are thinking "man could she be anymore selfish", but I also know some of my sisters are about to shed a tear on my behalf.

Okay maybe tears is a bit of an exaggeration, but I know some of you can relate. It has been four months since my last highlight. I have stretched it as far as it can go. My roots feel like they are half way down my head.

I'm all ready feelin a little ugh with my after baby body. My tummy looks like I am still three (okay maybe four) months pregnant and we won't even discuss the double D issue I got goin' on. I would never pay money for boobs this big. I feel like a milk production company over here. I could feed a small country people! I was just needin' a little highlight to make me feel cute again.

After a morning full of kicking, screaming, hair pulling, and maybe even some biting(from me not the children) my husband thought I might need a little encouraging. This little cancellation has sent me in a downward spiral. At this stage, I had used this little hiccup as reason to leave the ministry and for H to get a job where he could "provide for our family". I just wanted a little six figure guaranteed income. Is this to much to ask? I mean us girls have hair needs...right?

Hans calls me over to sit in his lap and look with him at CNN online. The headline reads how thousands were killed in the cyclone that hit in Bangladesh. There are pictures of people who are grieving because they have lost everything. They have not only lost all of there stuff but loved ones as well. Wives have lost their husbands, mamas have lost their children, children have lost their brothers and sisters. We are talking about devastation, real devastation.





Here I sit in my house with heat, air, and running water. We have beds to sleep in and a refrigerator full of food. I'm certain that even if we were eating mac and cheese and ramen it's still better than what they will eat today. Not only are all of my needs met and then some...I have my husband and our six children to kiss and hold when ever I want. We are all healthy and we know that we will eat, bathe and sleep in a bed tonight.

My heart sank, I was broken. Here I sit with much and I am literally throwing a fit about hair. I'm not saying that there is anything wrong with us getting our hair done. I am simply talking about focus, about being aware, about getting it. Through my fit I was made aware that I don't get it.

Forgive me Lord Jesus. I want to get it.