Losing a Bloody Battle

For about 16 years now, I have been waging a war against facial hair. It first arrived during those all too fragile junior high years in the form of some dark peach-fuzz under my nose. It made me look like I had dirt (or something worse) on my upper lip. I was then introduced to the miserable world of shaving. (Ladies, I've heard the arguments that you have to shave more square inches than us and that you face many more difficult contours--knees and armpits. But I'm not buying it. We have the jugular to deal with!)

The battle goes like this. I shave. In the process, I cut myself repeatedly (every time!). I then stick all kinds of toilet paper or kleenex upon my face to stop the bleeding. I then storm out of the bathroom determined to never touch a razor again. (If I'm lucky, I remember to remove said toilet paper or kleenex from my face before I head to work.) A few days later, my face and neck are itching, and I'm back in front of the mirror.

If you know me, you probably know I had a pretty sweet system worked out. Since I found that the itching came by the third or fourth day, I had determined to only shave on Wednesdays and Sundays (my two most "public days" of ministry). It was actually working out pretty well...until.

(In chronological order)

1. Charity doesn't like the "rough-faced" me. This surprised me. I assumed that any development that covered more of my face had to be a good thing. But she doesn't like it; stating it makes me look sloppy. Plus, it feels rough.
2. I'm involved in more adult ministry. The plan was really sweet when my focus was only on students. You pretty much saw them a couple times a week, and what teen cares if you hadn't shaved as long as you're paying for lunch? Now, I'm attending more pastor meetings, lunches with adults, and even funerals. There seems to be more occasions messing up my beloved schedule.
3. The patch. I mentioned a few posts ago that I don't mind having gray hair. I still don't mind. But recently, I developed this ridiculous patch on the side of my chin. It's about 3 or 4 hairs that are coming in totally white. At first, I thought it was some symptom of acne...but these bad boys keep coming back. It looks laughable, and I don't want anyone thinking it's some sort of tribute to Rasheed Wallace's "white patch."
4. Rachel. This morning was a shave day. (Wednesday. Face was itching. Patch was appearing.) As I'm leaving for work, my daughter is sitting on the kitchen counter. I stop to give her a kiss goodbye. She puts her hand to my face and states, "The scratchies are gone!" I give her a kiss, and as I'm walking out the door, she says, "I like when you get rid of the scratchies, your kisses don't hurt." Now I'm not sure if her mother put her up to that, or if my face only felt smooth because of the toilet paper and kleenex covering it...but I think I just lost the battle.

If I could take this moment to encourage you to give blood at your local Red Cross. If I'm going to be shaving daily, I'm probably going to need it.