My hair is a big deal to me. Far too big of a deal actually. When people used to compliment me, most of the time it was "Wow your hair is so long!" Maybe it's not an ACTUAL compliment, but to me it was. I took pride in the length of my hair, but not the condition. I could pinch the ends and pull them right off. They were so broken, so dead, they weren't going to get any longer. I also had a half-n-half head. Since I hadn't been able to afford much, I stopped dyeing my hair. I like my natural colour, and I like not having to worry about regrowth. But, the bottom half of my hair was a yucky combination colour of every colour I've ever used. And It wasn't going anywhere fast. I NEEDED to get it cut. Sad as it made me, short(er) healthy hair was much nicer than long dead hair.
So a while ago I wanted it chopped off. I did have a little bit of money, but I had other priorities and it wasn't really a necessity to spend it on my hair. Nevertheless, I wanted it done and I wanted it now!
So I prayed. "God please give me a sign whether or not it is okay to spend this money on a hair cut." I immediately scoffed at that. As if God cares whether or not I cut my hair! It's a silly, girly, vanity issue that I cared far too much about for God to give it any more thought that I already had.
(Side note: A friend of mine had gone to Thailand a few weeks before then, and had brought me a little present, but for whatever reason, we just hadn't gotten around to giving/receiving it.)
The day I prayed the "hair prayer" was a Sunday. I got to church late (but still on time - I'm normally early to set up) because my car decided to break and I had to wait for a tow truck and my parents who were so good to me they came and got me and my car and drove me to church. My friend came and found me and handed me a shopping bag. In it was a cute Guess wallet from Thailand and a card. Inside the card was some money and a beautiful letter instructing me that the money was to spent on my hair.
I cried. I told her the story. She cried. It was beautiful! :)
Later that night, another friend handed me an envelope and told me not to open it until I got home. In it was two times the amount in the other card.
Who am I to say that God doesn't care when he knows the exact NUMBER OF HAIRS ON MY HEAD (Matthew 10:30). He cares about every detail of my life (Psalm 37:23), and he did more than I dared to ask, more than just a sign to get my hair cut (Ephesians 3:20). Who am I to ever say that God doesn't care? Who am I to ever worry about anything? I hadn't had a regular income in over a year and a half, and yet my closet is BURSTING with clothes given to me from friends and family (Matthew 6:25-34).
Prayer works. I'm just saying... :)
PS: I really don't like having my picture taken, so this is the only semi-decent one I could find of my new hair. I love my friends babies! :)