Saturday, March 17, 2018

DR. BILL & THE BOOT CAMP BARBER


      I have rarely been more uncomfortable, more out of control, more at the mercy of my environment.

      I visited the barbershop today, and the barber greeted me with “Dr. Bill!” And it occurred to me that he didn’t know my title or my name, though I’ve frequented his shop for a decade. Yet it didn’t take long to “put two and two together” for he had been lingering outside the door, and my car tag happens to be my personal monogram. I’ve often thought that I should be careful how I drive that little Nissan, since the thing has my brand on its rear end.

     But to return to my story. I realized, too late, that my trusted barber was slurring his words, as he told me that he’d been sick with the flu. And as he “did the buzz” on my head, this former Navy Diver made me aware that the military had tried to recall him at the grand old age of 64. It seems they wanted him to do some underwater operations in the Euphrates River. Things were getting “scarier and scarier.”

     But that was the least of it. The Old Boy began scalping me. Yes, scalping me. Crazy Horse would have been proud. Talk about shades of boot camp! Never in a decade had this fella taken so much hair off a head that had so little to give!

    Round and round he went, his hand trembling, and all the while me thinking that I can’t help but have all manner of ridges and valleys magically appearing on my poor scalp.

     I had asked for a military haircut, but he had never been this military. And every time the “buzz saw” circled my head, the length of my hair eroded; til it could hardly be distinguished from my bald spot.

     I wanted to speak, but my tongue clung to the roof of my mouth. I wanted to shout… “Man, what are you doing?” or “Do you have those shears on automatic pilot?” Yet, nothing came out of my mouth, and I sat transfixed, as my hair fell in clumps around me.

    Well, friends, I’m second-guessing whether my barber will remain my barber!

    We’ve all been there. Out of control. Without strength. Helpless. Even hopeless. We find ourselves in circumstances we are helpless to do anything about.

And though the previous illustration is more humorous than hopeless, it is an adequate example of our seeming inability to control our environment. We find ourselves in the most challenging circumstances; though the day may have begun with sunlight and a song.

     It is comforting to know that our Lord was already there before we got there; already aware that we would pass through valleys and climb over mountains.

     So the next time your barber “goes on the warpath” or something a little more serious, and significant happens, remember that God never shakes His head in surprise, that you are ever in His thoughts, and that “He cares for you.”

    “Casting all your cares upon Him, for He cares for you.” (1st Peter 5:7, KJV)

By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "Musings." Copyright 2010.

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