It's been a while since I've done a blog post, but something happened today that just needs to be shared.
Got my roots touched up and my hair trimmed this morning. After the goop was slathered onto my head and dabbed onto my ever-graying brows (I looked charming) I sat back with a back issue of Good Housekeeping and waited for the chemicals in my hair to do their job.
A man around my age came into the salon and sat in the chair next to mine. The stylist asked the guy if he wanted "the usual," and he promptly told him that no, this time he wanted his head buzzed. Being a writer gives me license to eavesdrop (Okay, I made that up) so as I perused a page of recipes in my magazine I listened.
I learned the man has been on dialysis for quite a while and has been waiting anxiously for a perfect match for a new kidney. What he hadn't known was that his daughter had been quietly looking into becoming his donor. Turns out she was a perfect match and his surgery is scheduled for sometime next week.
Not caring that my gooey, spiky head of hair and product-filled eyebrows might have made me look kind of crazy, I leaned around the stylist buzzing away at the guy's head and started talking to him. I can't help it.
His name is Mark. He told me about the thrill of his daughter's being his perfect match. But, then he said, "You want to know the most amazing part?"
Yes, of course I did.
He hold me his daughter is adopted. So, the chances of them being a perfect match is kind of a miracle. And while I sat there with my eyes brimming, Mark, with a grin that spanned his face, told me the best part was that now he and his daughter would now officially be "blood related."
I left the salon with a pretty nice looking coif, a renewed sense of awe in God's grace, and a prayer in my heart for the guy named Mark.