Lovely Locks

Every woman loves her hair. Even if she "doesn't" and wishes it was straighter or curlier or blonder or whatever -- our hair is one of the most visible things to the world that we are a woman. That we are beautiful. I think the Bible calls it our crown.

I am going to be honest and say that I unashamedly LOVE my hair. I look at it and smile thinking about when God created me. It is as if He said to Himself, "I am going to wrap all of who Callan is -- her bubbly personality, her uniqueness, her life, her essence -- and I am going to give her wildly lovely strawberry blonde curly hair. It is going to defy gravity just as she will defy the odds. It is going to be a rare blend of color because of her rare mix of strengths. And it is going to be lovely. Because she is my daughter and that makes her lovely."

When I was a toddler my hair was so blonde that it looked white and so curly that it was a tameless afro. I hit puberty and the red started coming in. And don't forget the "I hate being so different!!!" phase where I slicked it back into a bun every single day. It hasn't always been a loving relationship, me and my hair. But then one day, with a little maturity and probably some coaxing from my loved ones, I learned how to fix and truly love my hair. I loved how it was striking and made me one of a kind. It almost is what I'm known for -- the girl with the curly red hair.

I will confess that more once in my life I have joked about how God couldn''t ever let me get cancer when I'm old because I wouldn't be able to handle losing my hair. Ha, there it is again . . . the false sense of security that youth and health go hand and hand.

Then cancer at 22 years old. And that brings me back to my new reality . . . the one where my hair is falling out.

My beautiful red curly hair is temporarily being taken away.

Even though I cry as I write that, because it is a loss, I know that who I am so greatly transcends my hair. It is an attribute, and a lovely one too. But my hair is not all there is to me.

I've had my good cries and now I am starting to be ready to face this. I'm oddly excited to see what I look like with a shaved head because who are we kidding . . . I would have never under any other circumstance tried it out. Not to mention I have a special love for head wraps and scarfs. I think I can do this for a season.

And yes, it should grow back.

As much as I appreciate that being the phrase used so often to comfort me, it doesn't change the fact that there will be a season that I am bald. That hurts. The pain demands to be felt and we are all going to grieve my hair loss. Then we are going to laugh when I try on strange wigs and rejoice when I find lovely wraps. We'll be ok.

This is forcing me to consciously think about all of the things that make me beautiful that aren't my hair. And something about this experience has made the list mostly intangible, non-appearance related. Ultimately, my beauty is found in my Creator. His glorious essence, not my hair, is what gives me my identity and ultimately makes me captivating.

So for every person reading this, man or woman, take it from the soon to be bald girl-- you are more than your looks. You are more than your insecurities and fear. Who you are and how you were created was intentional and perfectly designed by God himself. Together we can rest in that.


[Photo creds to the lovely Kendall Parsons]