As He wills it.

As my hair continues to fall out, every time I pull out another handful of hair, I just send up, "Thy will be done, Thy will be done," over and over and over. How can the will of God be wrong? Thy will be done. Sometimes I really don't believe that I want His will to be done, but I say it anyway. The only times I've been unhappy in my life is when I've been separated from the will of the Father. Yes, seeing all that hair falling out makes me unhappy, but it's a pretty superficial thing, right? There is no physical pain, only vanity. As He wills it. As He wills it. His will is perfect. His will is perfect.

So I did what anyone would do. By adding something different to my hair, it's easier to take it all less seriously. If I'm willing to dye it purple, losing it seems far less difficult. It's not really "my" hair if I don't recognize it so easily, is it? And it's much more fun seeing red and purple and black hair stuck to the wall of the shower than boring old brown. Adding some fun removes some pain. 

Last night as I was getting ready for bed, some very hurtful things came across in a message. This person has a history of hurtful things, so it wasn't too surprising. Thankfully, I recognized it for what it was. "Blessed are you who suffer persecution because of Me." Here I am submitting myself to the will of God as gracefully as possible, and up pops another reason to separates myself from Him. All I wanted to do was unload and absolutely go batty on this person. So I did what any person submitting to the will of God would do. I swallowed my tears, buried my pride and did the graceful thing. 

I extended a dinner invitation. 

As He wills it.