Lately I’ve been super motivated. I’m drinking coffee when it’s hot, I’m writing almost every day, I’m hashtagging things; I even managed to get on my Peloton and ride a couple times. I’m super legit. Boss-ladying life. Just rocking it, you get the point.
So I’m just chugging along, tooting my horn about this and that—of course all in the name of God—when life decides to hit me like a hammer in the face! The enemy seemed to be saying, “Oh look, she’s doing so good, how can I mess this up?” In walks (or should I say, crawls) my kryptonite.
I woke up Monday as a mama on a mission. I had places to go, people to see, trips to pack lunches for, dentist appointments, and on and on and on. My daughter woke up complaining that a mosquito must have bitten her head because it was super itchy. Wait…huh? No, that doesn’t happen! Get the comb!
When I was in middle school, I had bugs in my hair (i.e. lice) for two years. I had a mother in denial because surely a nurse’s daughter doesn’t get recurring lice infestations. So, as an adult, lice has become my kryptonite. I’ve planned accordingly, with lice combs on deck ready for inspection at the drop of a hat, or a brush in this instance.
I was born premature, in a tragic car accident by one year old, and had brain surgery by age 13. Four C-sections and an abdominoplasty later, there are not many things that startle or shake my core. But lice is the thing, that one thing that will make my entire life crumble.
Maybe it’s because I have beautiful, long, thick hair and so have no interest in delousing myself. Maybe it’s those two years of my adolescence spent in shame from an infestation I couldn’t convince my mother I had. Or perhaps it’s the four daughters who also have beautiful hair that I don’t want to shave off in a fit of fury. Either way, I wanted to jump out of my skin when she came back with the comb and said, “Mom, it’s lice.” I sprung into action (after a small crying fit in the bathroom). I was so ashamed and embarrassed. I felt guilty that I had let my daughter become a breeding ground for the world’s most disgusting insect. I just couldn’t believe it. I lost it. He got me! The enemy made me feel all the bad feelies, and I let him infest my brain.
That is, until I spoke to God about it. I prayed…HARD. And this small voice filled my ears saying, “Don’t worry, we got this, it’s just lice.” Turns out He was right again. The infestation was managed quickly and only affected one head, even though I treated all seven of us: RID for the girls and buzz cuts for the boys!
I was so ready to throw in the towel and give up on life itself over something so small and insignificant. Head bugs wasn’t a pox upon my family. It was an opportunity to teach the lesson in not sharing everything with friends like brushes, headbands, helmets, and hats. Perhaps not touching heads when we selfie. And the age-old lesson of a louse’s preferred habitat, which is not dirty hair, but clean. How silly that a bug you can hardly see would make me feel dirty and guilty.
I have four daughters, so lice is something I’m sure I will see again, but I hope I don’t. In any case, it isn’t the end.
So whatever it is that’s your kryptonite, I challenge you to face it before you’re face to face with it. But if your one thing DOES come knocking on your door and you have to deal with its uninvited knock, just roll it over! Give it no power. Nobody said it would be easy. But life is totally worth it.
Be safe. Be great. Be YOU!
Reality Changing Observations:
1. What is that “one thing” for you? The thing that makes you want to throw in the towel?
2. When standing face to face with your kryptonite, how can you overcome it and not let it crumble your world?
3. How can you be easier on yourself for the things you have no control over?