Even the Hair on my Head

I poked fun at my mom for her method of dividing food among her 7 children.  It was never a handful of grapes; it was 8 grapes.  Each child got two of every color of M&M's and you bet I felt the world had done me a great disservice when "they" did away with the tan ones.  No, she did not compensate.  It was years before blue came along.  She did what she had to do to manage a household of hungry children whom were quick to shout, "Not fair!" at any imbalance.  Now, though only half of my children can count, I find myself doing mental math at meals to make foods stretch and not leave one child empty-handed.   So, yes, I count grapes... and strawberries... and slices of pear.

Raspberries are expensive.  I purchase them on rare occasions when they are in-season.  I have a rule that fruit must never cost more than $.33 a serving.  It helps me make wise decisions in the grocery store when kids are requesting pricey produce and I'm at risk of making hasty decisions so I can just get out of the store with minimal sanity-loss.  I bought raspberries one day when they met The Rule criteria.  I washed them for lunch and put them on the table in their original container.  While distracted, the raspberries were consumed in what I can only imagine was at the speed of starved piranhas, because they were gone in seconds, leaving a mommy and two other children wanting.

"What happened to the raspberries?" I asked somewhat rhetorically.

"I ate them," said Guilty Piranha.

"Did you consider that someone else might have wanted some?" I asked, calculating that now to even the scales I would be shelling out big bucks for today's fruit rations.

"Well, you put them in front of me so I just thought those were mine," said the child, a bit ashamed.

It was an honest mistake, I suppose.  I suppose I can't expect a child to recognize that no one else had a box of raspberries at their seat, nor were there any other raspberries in sight.  I suppose I can't expect a child to realize that I have never portioned raspberries at the rate of a pint per child.  I suppose it was a fair assumption that what falls into the boundaries of your place setting becomes fair game.

I'm not trying to make a mountain out of raspberries.  They were just raspberries.  (Of course, try telling that to the kid that didn't get any.)  What I see in this little anecdote is a reflection of my own ignorant greed that causes me to assume what God put before me, He intends for my pleasure only.  I wonder how many times God has been frustrated- no, angered- at my greedy consumption.  How often do I look like a child, licking her fingers clean of the signs of over-indulgence while hungry onlookers wonder what made me so lucky?  I would be lying to myself if I said anything other than too often.

I know I painted this picture for you with food.  At the forefront of my mind when picturing "those in need," I see hungry faces.  But take a moment with humanity and you will find that "need" stretches beyond the tangible food and shelter.  Not to detract from offering in these areas, but I write today because I believe that God has blessed each one of us differently with the purpose that we should use those blessings for the good of others.  Financial inadequacy is no excuse for the absence of generosity.  There are so many ways we can share the blessings that we have and be a reflection of Christ in the life of others.

I've had long hair most of my life.  Shortly after my wedding eight-ish years ago, I decided it was time for a drastic cut and figured I might as well donate my hair if I planned to cut that much.  It was a win-win situation.  My hair seems to grow faster than average and I found myself in the same place of desiring a fresh look after the birth of my first child.  It was then that I made a commitment to grow my hair out and donate it for as long as I was able.  The timing has been such that I have an appropriate amount of hair for donating after 2 years of growth, which has worked out to be after the birth of each of my additional three children.

Only, I just didn't feel like it this time.  Matthew is a year old now, and I knew I was shirking my commitment, but I danced around it.  After all, it was MY hair and I like it long.  And then it was winter and cold and that hair can be so, so warm.  Long hair has a way of entangling itself around your identity.  And for any of you that are in the camp of "But long hair is so much work," let me introduce you to my friend The Ponytail, which when done correctly, does not even require brushing.  Short hair requires styling and fussing when it won't lay flat or flip in the right direction.  Ponytails alleviate all worries (except the one about looking more than apathetic about your appearance).

But the voice that accompanied me at every shampooing and tangle-tackling, reminded me that not even the hair on my head is mine.  I just don't believe that it is.  And what is faith if you are not acting on what you believe?  So the appointment was scheduled and the hair was shed and packaged in an envelope to be a blessing to someone who doesn't see it as just hair, because it doesn't grow for them.  I am blessed to be able to say, "It's just hair.  It'll grow back."

I feel lighter.  Not just in the weight of hair, but in heart, because I held on to something that wasn't mine for the keeping.  It's only hair, but it's a matter of the heart.  I hold on to too much under the guise of it being mine, when God has only placed it in my care for His purposes.  Money, food, shelter, talent, time, ability, knowledge, even the hair on my head- in all these things I can and must bring Him glory.  It is why He gave them to me.

I have so much more to give than has been given; so much that I choose to use for my own glory, rather than His.  Following Him is in the letting go.

Then Jesus said to his disciples, "I tell you the truth, it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.  Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God."  When the disciples heard this, they were greatly astonished and asked, "Who then can be saved?"  Jesus looked at them and said, "With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible."