I had never deloused a head before I arrived in Huehuetenango.
I had a very brief stint with lice in first grade when it went around my school; my parents spent hours going through my hair with a nit comb, doused my scalp in tea tree oil and wrapped my hair in tin foil, and I proceeded to pretty much forget that lice exist for 18 years or so. When I heard that lice was a possibility in Guatemala I asked my mom to send me an all-natural delousing kit and some tea tree oil as a preemptive measure-- I guess the idea of a bunch of tiny little bugs feeding off my scalp and breeding in my hair kind of grossed me out. I was not interested in dealing with the creatures if it was at all avoidable.
But shortly we arrived here, the first massive infestation of the year hit the Fundacion. Getting the bugs and eggs out of a head that's been colonized can take hours of meticulous attention, and generally requires repeat treatments. With over 120 kids and only a handful of staff members, there was simply not enough manpower to begin to delouse each child... so I did what needed to be done. I asked for a lesson, got a lice comb, and went to work. Pulling out a live bug on my first comb-through was a bit of an experience! But I didn't stop, and I still haven't.
With so many kids living under the same room and sharing clothes and bedding, lice is essentially never totally eradicated from the orphanage-- the battle is ongoing. And I've gotten good at fighting it. I search my student's scalps for hidden eggs without even thinking as I help them with math problems. I pull nit after nit out of new kid's hair as they sit in front of me, my once unsure fingers quickly combing through the lice's favorite hiding spot, telling eggs from dander with ease. My roommates and I check each other's heads periodically, but we're not afraid anymore-- lice are simply a part of our reality now.
I'm not going to lie though, they still aren't the most pleasant. While they aren't dangerous, lice are icky and itchy and a nuisance. And it can hours and hours and multiple treatments over the course of weeks to get rid of them, once they've taken hold. I know the work it takes from experience now! So I'm not super keen on getting them. But do you know lice are spread? Almost exclusively through head-to-head contact, or extremely close proximity. And do you know how I spend my days? In extremely close proximity to little ones with heads full of them.
If I was going to be smart about it, I'd always keep my hair up, and I'd try my best to keep their heads away from mine. I would keep a smart distance. And when I first got here, I thought about doing that. But that's not how our kids love. That's not how they want to be loved. No, our kids want to be in our laps, on our backs, heads on our shoulders, hair all tangled up in ours. So Vilma will come up to me, sit on my lap, and lean her head back into my neck to get some quality time and cuddles, and oh, I know she's got nits right now. I start to pull back, and I see the confusion in her eyes-- where am I going? And I stop, and I pull her back against me and hold her close and smile, because I love her, and she is worth it.
I don't think anyone would say I was necessarily "unloving" for trying to keep physical space for a valid reason. It would be rational, it would be looking out for myself. But man, I love the crap out of these kids. And I could probably love them from a distance, in a more sterile way-- but it wouldn't have the same depth as the beautiful, simple way that I get to love them right now. I don't want the distraction of making sure I'm avoiding lice to at all hinder my my unconditional and wild love for them. I don't want them to feel me pulling back, I want them to know that I'm present. So I tickle them and wrestle them and hold them to me and tuck their heads into my shoulder when they cry, I let their hair tangle up in mine, because they are worth it. They crave that love, and I'm privileged to be able to give it to them. Loving them close up, without barriers, is worth the risk of lice.
And I think maybe loving any human is kind of the same. The natural reaction when we see each other's mess and baggage might be to hold back, to keep distance, to keep our love checked. Maybe even keep walls up as a preventative measure, because we know that loving up close can (and most likely will) cause us annoyance, time, effort, and even pain. And that's okay, and you can get through life that way fine. But I think that we'd be missing out. I think that we feel it when someone pulls back, holds back. And I think that handshakes are fine and you probably won't get lice that way, but I think that hugs and tickles and playful wrestles full of laughter and heads resting on each other's shoulders are better. I think that's how God loves us constantly, in spite of our brokenness and failings-- He doesn't hold back. I think Jesus gets right down here with us and our lice-infested heads and holds us close and rest on His shoulder and doesn't even tell us to clean ourselves up, and all we have to do is let Him.
So I think that maybe next time we notice that we're pulling back because we know that leaning in could cost us more time and effort and energy or even pain, we should try to catch ourselves and lean in anyway, and see what happens when we love without inhibition and freely, when we let our hair get tangled up in each other's, because it's actually really beautiful. And because I think that Jesus is right: I think that we're worth it.
I had a very brief stint with lice in first grade when it went around my school; my parents spent hours going through my hair with a nit comb, doused my scalp in tea tree oil and wrapped my hair in tin foil, and I proceeded to pretty much forget that lice exist for 18 years or so. When I heard that lice was a possibility in Guatemala I asked my mom to send me an all-natural delousing kit and some tea tree oil as a preemptive measure-- I guess the idea of a bunch of tiny little bugs feeding off my scalp and breeding in my hair kind of grossed me out. I was not interested in dealing with the creatures if it was at all avoidable.
But shortly we arrived here, the first massive infestation of the year hit the Fundacion. Getting the bugs and eggs out of a head that's been colonized can take hours of meticulous attention, and generally requires repeat treatments. With over 120 kids and only a handful of staff members, there was simply not enough manpower to begin to delouse each child... so I did what needed to be done. I asked for a lesson, got a lice comb, and went to work. Pulling out a live bug on my first comb-through was a bit of an experience! But I didn't stop, and I still haven't.
With so many kids living under the same room and sharing clothes and bedding, lice is essentially never totally eradicated from the orphanage-- the battle is ongoing. And I've gotten good at fighting it. I search my student's scalps for hidden eggs without even thinking as I help them with math problems. I pull nit after nit out of new kid's hair as they sit in front of me, my once unsure fingers quickly combing through the lice's favorite hiding spot, telling eggs from dander with ease. My roommates and I check each other's heads periodically, but we're not afraid anymore-- lice are simply a part of our reality now.
I'm not going to lie though, they still aren't the most pleasant. While they aren't dangerous, lice are icky and itchy and a nuisance. And it can hours and hours and multiple treatments over the course of weeks to get rid of them, once they've taken hold. I know the work it takes from experience now! So I'm not super keen on getting them. But do you know lice are spread? Almost exclusively through head-to-head contact, or extremely close proximity. And do you know how I spend my days? In extremely close proximity to little ones with heads full of them.
If I was going to be smart about it, I'd always keep my hair up, and I'd try my best to keep their heads away from mine. I would keep a smart distance. And when I first got here, I thought about doing that. But that's not how our kids love. That's not how they want to be loved. No, our kids want to be in our laps, on our backs, heads on our shoulders, hair all tangled up in ours. So Vilma will come up to me, sit on my lap, and lean her head back into my neck to get some quality time and cuddles, and oh, I know she's got nits right now. I start to pull back, and I see the confusion in her eyes-- where am I going? And I stop, and I pull her back against me and hold her close and smile, because I love her, and she is worth it.
I don't think anyone would say I was necessarily "unloving" for trying to keep physical space for a valid reason. It would be rational, it would be looking out for myself. But man, I love the crap out of these kids. And I could probably love them from a distance, in a more sterile way-- but it wouldn't have the same depth as the beautiful, simple way that I get to love them right now. I don't want the distraction of making sure I'm avoiding lice to at all hinder my my unconditional and wild love for them. I don't want them to feel me pulling back, I want them to know that I'm present. So I tickle them and wrestle them and hold them to me and tuck their heads into my shoulder when they cry, I let their hair tangle up in mine, because they are worth it. They crave that love, and I'm privileged to be able to give it to them. Loving them close up, without barriers, is worth the risk of lice.
And I think maybe loving any human is kind of the same. The natural reaction when we see each other's mess and baggage might be to hold back, to keep distance, to keep our love checked. Maybe even keep walls up as a preventative measure, because we know that loving up close can (and most likely will) cause us annoyance, time, effort, and even pain. And that's okay, and you can get through life that way fine. But I think that we'd be missing out. I think that we feel it when someone pulls back, holds back. And I think that handshakes are fine and you probably won't get lice that way, but I think that hugs and tickles and playful wrestles full of laughter and heads resting on each other's shoulders are better. I think that's how God loves us constantly, in spite of our brokenness and failings-- He doesn't hold back. I think Jesus gets right down here with us and our lice-infested heads and holds us close and rest on His shoulder and doesn't even tell us to clean ourselves up, and all we have to do is let Him.
So I think that maybe next time we notice that we're pulling back because we know that leaning in could cost us more time and effort and energy or even pain, we should try to catch ourselves and lean in anyway, and see what happens when we love without inhibition and freely, when we let our hair get tangled up in each other's, because it's actually really beautiful. And because I think that Jesus is right: I think that we're worth it.
My precious Jazzy. Your heart is beautiful and I love how you treasure those kids with reckless abandon. I wish more people in the world loved and accepted the way you do. You teach us all, over and over again, what it is to have the heart and mind of Christ. Well done my love.
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