It's Been Taken Care Of

Last year when Edith was in Kindergarten, everyone in her class had lice all year long. But Edith never got it. I learned all this at Field Day in May – other parents were telling me how their kids got it 3 or 4 times in the school year. I was so relieved Edith didn’t get it. I’m pretty certain that I (and my brothers) are not allergic to poison ivy. None of us have ever had it, and we’ve been in plenty of situations to at least one of us have gotten it once. I wondered if a person can just not be a good host for lice? I’ll admit, I was a little smug and a little proud that we got by unscathed.

A couple weeks ago I got a call from Nurse Michelle, which is never good. But could it be any worse??? You got it, Edith had lice. My head started to itch before I even hung up the phone. I panicked. Our lives are too busy for this! And how embarrassing! How shameful! Is it because I forgot to brush her hair that morning? I envisioned little bugs crawling up my back, over my scalp, in my ears, on my truck seats. We co-sleep, so there’s no way I’m unscathed in this. I start making phone calls – cancelling our lives – my own doctor appointment, two work appointments. I don’t want anyone to know! I go to Walmart and buy supplies and I give Edith one of her dreams – instead of having day care pick her up, I picked her up myself. She was a “car kid” for one day.

When I got her home, I looked in her hair to see what it looks like, because I have no idea what it looks like. I see nothing. So, apparently, lice is invisible. 

I had two hours to neutralize this invisible crap that had invaded our lives. You’d be amazed how efficient I can be – I put us in the shower – one shampoo, two shampoos. Leave the shampoo on, put plastic bags on our heads. Set Edith to doing homework. Strip the bed. Start the laundry. 83 loads of laundry, and that’s just the bedding. Thank God we have no carpet. Start spraying the mattress, the couches, the rugs. Rinse the shampoo out after 40 minutes. Give the dog a bath. Switch the laundry. Go, go, go!!!! Lice neutralized.

Throughout the process and the evening, Edith kept apologizing to me. She was in tears over this humiliation. I said, “Baby, baby, it isn’t your fault you have lice. It’s nothing you did. You did not cause this. It just happens, baby.” To which she would apologize again, and say she felt bad she made me do all that laundry. And yet again, I kept reassuring her that it wasn’t her fault. And that it was taken care of. It’s okay. It’s okay.

The next day I called Nurse Michelle and asked her to check Edith again with her microscopic vision, because I didn’t see anything. She called me back and said that all the live lice were gone, but there were still eggs. She said she’d send home a special comb for us to borrow. She also informed me that Edith had been telling everyone at school that she had lice, and Nurse Michelle had told her she didn’t need to divulge that information. A few hours later I got a call from the parents of the kids we were supposed to babysit that night…. Edith had told their dad she had lice. I affirmed she did not have it - but that she had HAD it. Miraculously, their plans fell through for that evening. They told me it had nothing to do with the lice, but I have my doubts. I don’t blame them. 

When I picked Edith up from school, I told her SHE DOES NOT HAVE LICE and to quit telling people she does. I explained to her, again, that she had HAD lice, but we took care of it. And now she doesn’t. I explained when she tells people that she has lice she scares them, and no one wants to be around her. She told me that she still had lice eggs, so she still has lice. And that makes a lot of sense – I can see her reasoning. I explained that all the live lice were dead, and yes, she had eggs, but we were going to keep treating her hair, and we were going to comb out those eggs, and she didn’t have lice anymore. I’m not even sure I believed my own reasoning though. I mean, eggs are eggs; but I did my damnedest to be convincing.

Even my Best Friend Siri is in denial about lice. Every time I try to type in a text message, she tries to change it to something it isn’t. Like. Live. Lide. Lime. You name it. Just not LICE.

I called her Girl Scout troop leader and told her about it, since the night before the discovery we’d been to a troop meeting. I asked her to let the other parents know, but to please leave my name out of it, PLEASE. This whole thing was so mortifying. That next night we had another Girl Scout function. On the way there, I told Edith if she told anyone there she had lice, I was going to beat her within an inch of her life. She solemnly swore she would not. After we’d been there about an hour, another mom walked up beside me and said, “So, Edith had lice?” I tell you what…..it’s a good thing there were about 100 witnesses, because Edith’s life was delicately swinging in the balance from a frazzled thread. I realized after the fact that this mom was also a troop leader, so Troop Leader #1 probably told Troop Leader #2, which is completely acceptable. But at the time, I saw red. RED I SAY.

The entire experience is something I wouldn’t wish on anyone. And I realize, it’s probably not my last experience with it either. But lice don’t like hair dryers. I don’t either, but I’m going to acquiesce on that point. We’ve used a blow dryer three times in the past two weeks.

At some point in this whole process, my brain started making a really big connection – you know, lice and sin have a lot in common.  You might laugh, but I think I needed the lesson. For starters, I thought we couldn’t get it – there have been sins that I was certain I would never “catch.” I was smug and self-righteous. And then it happened. And I was embarrassed and ashamed, but there are some things you can’t hide. And everyone knew. And you know what? Sometimes I can’t even help myself from telling them about them, even when I know I’d be better off to keep my mouth shut. And now, I see others around me who aren’t guilty of *my* particular sins, and they feel the same way - I can read the self-righteousness from a mile away, because I’ve been that person. I bet in ways I still am that person. 

The biggest hitting home point for me was that our sin problem has been taken care of – completely taken care of – but I don’t accept that. My brain can’t fathom that. And so I continue to feel guilty and dirty and ashamed, when it’s already been taken care of. Completely. How exasperating for the One who already took care of it!!! To give a gift, at a heavy price, only to have the recipient not acknowledge it. And, yes, there’s more sin to come. I’m full of potential for it – but it’s still already been taken care of. And just because I have the potential, doesn’t mean I’ve committed it. Even if I do commit it, it’s still been taken care of – it just has to be treated. And treatment is simple – it ain’t no 83 loads of laundry!

So what’s the hair dryer? It’s heat. And sin can’t take the heat. My brain could literally race with the correlations, as it did today while I was out on my run. Can yours?

Does your scalp itch?

Leading Along a Precipice

A couple of years ago during one of his sermons, my pastor talked about walking along the precipice of morality. It wasn't what the entire sermon was about, but I remember him describing walking along the edge of a cliff of what is right or holy, as close to the edge as you can get with still being right, dipping a toe over the edge and hanging it out there, claiming to still be righteous. I can picture myself even sitting on the edge, dangling my feet over the edge and swinging them. At the time, the description rang very true for me in many areas of my life, and I suppose it still very much applies today. I have surrendered areas of my life to Christ, but I definitely try to walk the tight rope and push it to the very limits. And sometimes I fall off the ledge. Yes, I crawl back up, and then I keep walking along it some more.

In God's design, God is the head, and then Christ acts on our behalf, and then it goes to man, and within a marriage or even within the church, then it goes to the woman. That's the structure he set up, the hierarchy, women libbers be damned.

When I was going through my divorce, and turning towards God, part of that was listening to K Love Radio. And one of the songs that was very popular back then was called Lead Me. It really struck a chord with me. The song talks about how a wife and children need a man to be the leader. And the man needs God to be his leadekr. It's states that we cry out for that. I realized that was something that was completely lacking in my marriage. My husband was not a spiritual leader in any way, and he wasn't really a leader in any other way either. It made my heart ache in a sweet, longing way to think of a man that would love me well enough to lead to me. I decided that is what I wanted. The problem is, that's pretty hard to find. Men these days aren't much into the business of leading, especially not spiritually. I could get into a long lengthy discussion of why I think that might be, and it probably started back in 1920 and evolved from there, but we are not going to delve into that on this.

In a man's (husband's) absence, I believe that I am the leader of my family. So I lead Edith. And Christ acts in the husband's role, leading me. "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside still waters, He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for He is with me, His Rod and His staff, they comfort me. He prepares a table before me in the presence of my enemies. He anoints my head with oil. My cup floweth over. Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."

Recently, I have been dating a very, very good man. But he is not in the lead, and he's not going to take the lead from what I can see. I tried to convince myself that that might be okay, but it isn't. Because then what happens is I am in the lead, and now not only am I leading Edith, but I'm leading someone else. And my natural tendency, as I stated before, is to walk along the precipice. So I'm leading them both along that precipice! Now it's not just me that could fall over the edge of the cliff, I've got two others in tow. The thought sends chills up my spine. And down my arms. And to my heart.

If I were to let him lead, and I follow, it doesn't appear that we are going to a firm destination. In fact, it doesn't appear that we are going anywhere. Except where we already are. You can't follow someone who isn't going anywhere. That seems mean and awful to say, and it isn't said out of spite, it's just how it is. 

I also have come to realize in this that I have not been letting Christ lead. I've been trying to lead. I think if I were to let Him lead, He wouldn't be walking in the same areas I've been walking in. To me, abiding would mean that you're in the center of something. Enveloped by something. There's no edges in that.