Before and After

This is me Tuesday morning.

I have had my hair to at least my shoulders most all of my life.  I suppose since I was a child of the late sixties through the 70s, that is all I know.  I started growing my hair long when I was in the 10th grade.  Prior to that I had that short sixties look, but since the 10th trade with maybe one or two exceptions my hair has always been to my shoulders.  Right after David and I married (almost 17 years ago) I grew it out to almost my waist. Hmmm....
But at the end of July, David and I are going on a medical mission trip to Costa Rica.  Right after my 56th birthday this past December, our new preacher said that "the church" was going to Costa Rica on a medical mission trip and if anybody wanted to go, call him. I was intrigued.  Long story short, not long after that, I was driving along in the car and God said, "well Angelyn, you have spent the past 56 years doing things for yourself, don't you think it's time you spend your next 56 years doing things for "The Kingdom."  That was it.  I was in.
To be frank, David is mostly going for me. I think that his heart is open, to what God has for him, but he is mostly going for me.  Which is fine, because quite frankly, I'm kinda scared.  We will be out in the middle of nowhere and I'm not the healthiest fittest person in the world.  In a word--I'm fluffy and in poor shape.  And Costa Rica is mountainous.  When I met with the team, I told them that I wanted to go, but I wanted to be a blessing not a burden.  Everyone assured me that if God wanted me to go, he would pave the way. 
Anyway back to the point of the story, if you read this blog any you know that I'm a nut when it comes to water. Bathing and washing my hair in particular.  So that said, if water is going to be in rather short supply, I would rather the bulk of it go below my neck, if you now what I mean.  Therefore, I did this.

In addition to the water thing, this is unbelievably easy to take care of.  No blow drying, no hot rollers, no Velcro rollers, no round brushes, no flat irons, no bobby pins, no clips of any kind, no elastic bands.  Amazing--I gathered all of that stuff up, put it in a plastic bag and stowed it in the closet. Just a little gel or hairspray, maybe a puff or two of the blow dryer and I'm done. I touch up the grey at my temples with a little mascara.  I just can't see buying a whole box of dye for that little bit of grey. (I HATE having grey hair).  Some women look lovely with grey hair--I look tired.
David loves my hair (surprise) but my daughter and daughter-in-law and gchildren hate it. Hmmm.
Plus, this may sound crazy, but in a way, cutting my hair is symbolic to me.  It is symbolic of a commitment and maybe other things...but I have to think about it more in order to put it into words.
If you are a praying person, please pray for us.  If you are not a praying person, then please keep us in your thoughts.
I'll keep you posted.
a