This weekend can be labeled as really crazy. I’ll explain why.

Last Friday everything was in its usual frenzy. I was in a hurry and all worked up, trying to finish the church bulletin. My hair was very long since I hadn’t had time to get a haircut in the preceding weeks, and I couldn’t take it anymore. Furthermore, that Friday I was told that I was supposed to preach at the church’s Sunday evening service. Great.

My wife told me of a new hairdressing/salon that was near my home. For me, it was absolutely necessary to get a haircut with the least loss of time, so I asked my wife to ask there whether they cut men’s hair as well as ladies’. If they said that they didn’t, then I would get a ride to go to some barber shop downtown. But that beauty salon said they did men’s haircuts, so I went there. They were open till 7pm, and I was scheduled to leave not earlier than 6pm, so I’d better leave office as fast as I could.

Before I left, I got an email with an urgent translation request. It was some 27 pages of dense accounting jargon in Spanish that needed to be translated to English, by Monday, naturally. I wanted to retain the customer and also needed (sorely, I might add) the money, so I had to accept the job. I had a translation to prepare and a sermon to deliver before the end of the weekend. And I was supposed to get a haircut…

6pm arrived having finished the church bulletin just barely. I was hurried, so I did not “close shop” as thoroughly as I wanted. When I arrived at the beauty salon, they were expecting me. There, Miss M. made me sit down in one of the chairs, and started the haircut. I explained her that I just wanted a normal guy’s haircut, pretty standard and boring stuff. And then, OUCH!

She got a scissor with 3-inches long blades. The blades were not sharp enough, so they were literally plucking out my hairs. Besides being incredibly painful and annoying, Miss M. was sloooow. She was leaving too much hair, the hair was not being cut evenly, and she was giving me a lot of pain. Additionally, she was talking that “here we also give massages to all kind of people… sometimes one needs to relax…” red light here. Testily, I replied “so, do you do reflexology?” to which she replied, “yes, we do those kinds of massages for mental fatigue…”

The lady obviously was not an expert hair stylist, and I had serious doubts about my coming there. She finally stopped, and I paid, and left. I was extremely angry, because my hair was very messed up, I lost my valuable time, and I was under extreme pressure to deliver in two fields.

I woke up on Saturday, and when I looked myself in the mirror I felt instantly rebuked by our Lord for joking about ladies with the “bad hair days”. I was having a “bad hair day”. I was extremely angry for having lost my time to get such a joke of a haircut, and having to appear in the pulpit the next day. Furthermore, I was grounded, doing the translation, so going downtown for a barbershop was out of the question. The fact that it was Saturday (the busiest days for barber shops and hair salonns) only helped to worsening my situation.

My wife saw me that way and tried to lighten me up, but my anger was too much. Then she, with the loveliest of glances, told me, “Eduardo, why don’t we pray about that? And after we pray, we’ll have lunch, and then we’ll go to Mr. R. for a haircut. Deal?” As usual, my wife is Wisdom herself personified… I said yes, tried to calm myself, and went on.

After lunch we got a cab and went to Mr. R’s barbershop, located some 14-15 blocks away from home (near my father-in-law’s home). Mr. R. welcomed me very nicely, sat me on his chair, and in 20 minutes was done, giving me an excellent haircut. To say I was relieved was an understatement.

Then I went back home, and went on with the translation. By 9.30pm I was finished and was able to rest. At Sunday morning I went to church to teach Sunday School as usual, and then went back home. Had a nice meal cooked by my wife, and then went to the study to hammer out my sermon. At 3.30 I had it ready, and went to the bedroom. We watched a nice movie, then I dressed, went to church, preached.

By the grace of our Lord, the sermon was very well received. When I came home, I was exhilarating. All was over, and I was thankful to the Lord for his everlasting mercies, helping me even in the midst of great pressure.

Nice evening, huh? 😀

1 Comment

  1. I can’t say I empathize, because I have almost no hair at all. However, I do know about sermons and rewriting stuff (though into the same language — still, it’s work).

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