“My peace I give to you; My peace I leave with you.”
It’s been bugging me for weeks now.
My head has itched like a constant crazy and I’ve been scratching my head every few minutes trying to figure out why.
But last night I took another look in the mirror and was so relieved to finally find a bug. Since I made this discovery during the church’s quarterly voter’s meeting I was unable to follow my gut instinct to immediately drive to CVS and get a lice comb. So instead I cut three inches off my own hair, found a few more bugs, and then continued on getting the kids ready for bed. I knew the school principal was being “strongly encouraged” to resign this evening so the meeting was going to take a bit longer than normal.
“Be at peace.”
Those were my husband’s last words before he walked out the door. I’ve cried bottles and bottles of tears over this. I’ve been home for years through evenings and evenings, board after board meetings, watching two school principals resign after being strongly encouraged to do so. We can’t figure out why a gifted administrator who loves God, loves our little town, and beyond a shadow of a doubt loves each and every child in our school wouldn’t instead be strongly encouraged to stay.
But I digress.
When Josh came home I drove to CVS to buy a lice comb. I bypassed the lice shampoo after reading on the label not to use the product on animals. I wasn’t even embarrassed to purchase the comb–I was just happy they had one. When I got back the kids were all in bed. He followed me into the bathroom and put in another two hours helping me comb through my hair for lice eggs. After that we saturated my hair with coconut oil, wrapped it in a towel, and made plans to do it again the next night.
I was at peace.
But the next morning it hit me. After everyone was out the door I broke down and cried. I called my mom and told her. This was, of course, nothing new under the sun. Years ago, on at least two occasions, she’d stayed up late into the night picking lice out of my hair. Now as an adult I cried because she wasn’t there to help me. Because in simple human times like this, when I am crying because I have a head full of lice and a house full of beautiful babies, I DON’T KNOW WHO TO CALL.
“Beck, don’t let your heart go there”, she said, “to go to that place of being bitter because you have lice alone”
It’s my constant temptation and she’s not the only One who knows it.
We talked for a while longer and I hung up the phone in peace again. About an hour later I called her back. I wanted to tell her the good news. I’d kept Elianna home from school, just in case, so I could check her hair as well. Sure enough I found some more bugs. I wasn’t alone.
And together we laughed and laughed.