For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted long hair. Mama said that when I turned 10 I’d be old enough to take care of it. If I wasn’t responsible though, she said I’d have to cut it.

So that’s when it all started. Some people aren’t concerned with something as trivial as hair, but for me, it was my dream. The story I’m about to share is one of faith, trust and letting go of something that meant the world to me. God may be asking you to let go and trust Him with something, too. I hope my story encourages you to take that step.

Mrs. Mary was my beautician. She’d cut my hair from the time I was a baby. She was the one who showed me how to do pigtails, ponytails, half-ups and braids. She also encouraged me to create my own styles. Some were so wild I looked like I was rivaling Bozo the clown for the wackiest hairdo!

When I was 13, my whole family had a big scare: I was diagnosed with cancer. The doctors were pretty sure the lump was malignant, but they wanted to do further testing. While my family worried about losing me, I worried about losing my hairto chemo! If I had to die, I didn’t want to die bald!

Right away, my mom added my name to a prayer chain. While I was planning my funeral, people were praying me back to good health. A couple days later I noticed the lump seemed smaller, and by the end of the week it was gone completely! The doctors couldn’t believe it. My family and I praised God. That close call made me even more attached to my hair.

By my 14th birthday, I’d reached my goal. My long, wavy tresses reached halfway down my back. It can’t be that much trouble to have it a little longer, I thought. So I extended my goal to have it waist length.

Bugs!
The next February, I caught lice. It was awful! We tried to get rid of them with everything from prescriptions to mayonnaise for a whole month. I lived in fear of the day we’d go to the salon to chop my hair off. Finally, we did get rid of them.

During that ordeal, I was raising money for my first missions trip. I was honored to go in Christ’s name and witness to people who’d never heard of Jesus. But when I arrived in the country, I noticed something about the people that really scared me. They had lice!

Some of the children had so much I could see it crawling in their hair. I kept my hair up and at a distance. I told them of Christ’s love, but I couldn’t show it to them. There was a girl on my team, though, who had no qualms about hugging the children and getting close to them. I thought, If she doesn’t catch lice, she’s going to catch something worse!

All she seemed to catch was joy. Finally, swallowing my fear, I decided to give it a try. The next day, I played with the kids. When one girl crawled on my lap, I squeezed her close and squeezed my eyes shut. I was on her level, speaking a language she understood — the language of love. I was hooked and regretted that there were only two days of ministry left! I vowed to return with a different attitude next year.

When I was back home, I heard about an organization called Locks of Love. A friend and I were doing our hair when she mentioned it to me.

“You know, Marianne, you should cut your hair and give it to Locks of Love,” she said. “The ‘in’ thing is short hair now anyway.” “What? Cut my hair!” I said as I shuddered. No way! I loved it too much and had worked too long to get it. But what she said stayed in the back of my mind. Maybe later, I thought.

Giving It My All
I went on my next missions trip with a new attitude. Before I even left the country I prayed about leaving my hands, heart and hair to God. I told my team of my experience from the year before, hoping to save them the same wasted time. Some took it to heart, but I saw others watch me with that same wary look I’d had for the girl the year before. I didn’t care. It was so freeing to trust God with those things and go out with love for the people.

For the next year I resisted the urge to perm, highlight or dye my hair. I would have liked a dramatic change, but in the back of my mind I knew that I’d give it away some day, so I wanted it to stay healthy.

Little did I know just how soon that day would be.

It was a crisp, cool, January morning. The wind on my cheeks bit as I jogged past a two-mile mark. I did an abrupt about-face in the road and began the jog home. I was thinking about hot coffee and what to have for breakfast when I heard a voice. It was a voice I was familiar with, but not one I often heard on my jogs. I slowed down considerably. “What was that, God?” I asked.

“It’s time, Marianne.”

That’s all He said, but I knew what He meant.

“No, God, wait. I’m not ready,” I said.

There was no reply. I would’ve felt better saying no if He would’ve at least argued a little. Instead, His silence made me think. I walked the rest of the way. Passing the coffee pot, I sat at the computer. In the three years I’d known about Locks of Love, I’d never gone to their Web site.

“God, why now?” I asked silently as I waited for our computer’s search engine to boot up.

Here I Go!
I read all the information on the Web site, but it was the before and after pictures that really tugged at my heart. The kids looked so happy with their new hair. They were so cute! Then I remembered how I felt when I thought I’d lose my hair to cancer. Most of these kids had gone through that. I felt guilty for wanting to hog the blessing God had given me.

“I’ll do it,” I told God. “After prom.”

I made an appointment for the Tuesday after prom. I figured the sooner I went, the less chance I had of talking myself out of it.

When I got to Mrs. Mary’s and told her what I wanted to do, she refused.

“Marianne, I’ve been helping you grow that hair out. I know what it means to you. If you want to let some of your friends talk you into cutting it, then you’ll have to go somewhere else!”

I thought, Maybe this is one of those Abraham experiences. The ones where God tests your faith by asking you to give Him something that means a lot to you. Then when you give it to Him, He gives it back! But just as God sent an angel to Abraham to tell him that his was a test, He sent the Holy Spirit to whisper to my heart, “Marianne, this is My will.”

So I explained to Mrs. Mary that this was something I had been praying about and that I was sending the cut hair to Locks of Love. She agreed to cut. I cried a little. I went home, braided it for the last time and sent it off.

“I hope it brings some child the joy it’s brought me,” I told my mom. I felt peace in my heart; I had done the right thing.

When I went back to Mrs. Mary’s three months later for a trim, she excitedly told me she needed more donation forms for Locks of Love. She had used the ones I’d left. You wouldn’t believe how many girls cut their long hair and throw it away. She’d convinced two to take theirs home, braid it and send it off.

I’ve learned a lot about faith through all this. I’ve learned how one person’s obedience can become contagious. God had a plan; one I couldn’t see or understand. I’m glad I said yes.

For more information about Locks of Love, visit their Web site, or call (888) 896-1588.