I have a confession to make: I color my hair. I can hear your collective gasp. "What? That glorious, radiant color isn't natural?" Sadly, no.
I was a blonde as a child and for many years thereafter. A husband and children, stress and age, have caught up with me, turning my once golden locks into a mish-mash of gray and white. I have a theory that God wants me to have the blonde hair I had as a child. (I also have a theory that God does not want me to use port-a-potties or go camping, but that's a story for another time.)
What else would God like me to retain from my childhood? Would He like me to be more trusting? Would He like me to find pleasure in small things? Would He like me to be unafraid to give voice to my feelings? Would He like me to give love more freely? Would He like me to sing joyfully, despite my off-key voice?
So, for today, I am grateful for hair color ... and for childlike qualities.