On Twitter, I wrote, that I was dying my hair "screaming red." I suppose my definition of "screaming" needs some refinement, because I chickened out AGAIN and ended up with brown hair with red highlights.
I caused quite a ruckus when I came in for my appointment, because they got me mixed up with the other Nancy C in our small county. This Nancy C canceled my appointment when they called to confirm. When they told me this, I was so disappointed, I thought I would cry.
I know it's just a haircut. I know that it doesn't matter. But I'll just say it---it's been a hard few weeks. There's of course all of the sadness in blogland involving Monkey and Daffy. Then, in my own backyard, there's a cancer diagnosis and a loss of a home to fire. Add in a mystery diagnosis here, family dysfunction there, a thirty year old getting a hysterectomy, and it all results in some serious fist shaking at the sky and a glass of anxiety with a paranoia chaser.
I was really counting on that haircut. When EVEN THAT fell through, I'll admit it: I cried in my car. I cried not for my lack of style, but for my lack of answers.
Of course, it worked out and I did get my haircut.
Of course, people are pulling together to help. (Click if you want to know about Monkey and Daffy.)
Of course people have made meals and pulled together clothing and their wallets to help out my backyard friends.
It's hard to remember how good this world can be. Grace is the act of rebirth. With new eyes, we see how people reach out to friends and strangers. In weakness, love holds us. We learn, once again, that we are not alone in this world.
I believe that we see God where needs meets love. We see God where longing meets acceptance. And yes, we see God in that thin shaft of light where fear meets hope.
Bring the meals. Make the call. Show up. Be part of the process. It's part of being human.
This I believe. Amen, Hallelujah.