Lice and Lies

As I combed the lice and eggs out of my own long, thick hair, I contemplated employing the razor that I saw nearby, but vanity stopped me. I was not so sure that I could pull off the whole bronze glam thing (that's how I picture myself, apparently) as a brown Sinead O'connor. So, I kept combing and combing until my scalp hurt and finally, my neon comb came up clean.

I had gone to the chemist and talked to a lady that looked very official. She could tell that I was freaked out. She tried to tell me that it was okay, and that many families get lice. "It is no comment on your hygiene," she said sympathetically. I tried look neutral but if you have ever seen me attempt to suppress emotion, you'll know that I was probably not very successful. Then, the kind chemist tried to sell me some "natural" Aussie remedy. (Many Aussies seem to like the most natural way of doing anything.) I proudly told her that I was American, and that I wanted to use more of a "shock and awe" method. She reluctantly sold me KB24, which was supposed to kill whole cities of lice and their eggs. That was what we needed, I was sure, something really toxic that would make your eyes sting and your lips tingle if it accidentally touched them.

I spent the day stripping beds, washing sheets in boiling water, bathing and combing little girls. I was so irritated and appalled and cranky. It is all very fine for Meryl and Jordan and Micah Jade to have lice. In fact, if Meryl's head hadn't itched so badly, she would have been glad to be the caretaker of a whole civilization, like Horton in Horton Hears a Who. Lice are normal for school kids, but it is a different thing entirely for glamorous, quirky, athletic, cool me to have lice.

Greg couldn't see why I was in such a panicked state. He calmly told me that he had lice when he was a kid, and that by the time his mom knew, he had picked out and killed most of them, himself. (This is a shocking story, I know.) He kept laughing at me and shrugging and making "heebie geebie" faces until he realized how unsettled I was. In case you don't know my husband, Greg has the ability to pierce to the truth with me like no one else; that's one of the reasons I like him so much. He gently and kindly asks the right questions. Finally, he looked hard at me and said, "Babe, it's gross, but why is this bothering you so much?"

Then it hit me. The lice in my own hair bothers me so much because I don't totally buy the truths that I am selling to my kids. I believe some lies instead. I am teaching that the "inside of a person is more important than the outside," that it's important to take good care of yourself, but it's more important to be kind to others," that "man looks at the outward appearance, but God looks at the heart." Here I was with a chance to live out the truths I say I believe; but instead a few small insects laid bare the falsehood in my own heart. Lice are gross on little kids, especially when you have to comb them out and look at them. They are grosser still in my own hair, but what's worse than lice is secretly overvaluing my image and appearance and therefore being unkind to and impatient with my children, who innocently and unknowingly shared the lice.

Ugliness in the heart is a terrible problem, but fortunately, I know a God that is in the business of regenerating the ugliness inside into something beautiful. I'm not there yet, but as I see myself for what I really am, I hope I can give God room to work on the inside of me when I need a serious tune-up. Maybe when he's done with His work, I will be rid of lice and lies.