The Smallest Things

I approached my daughter to give her a hug after school today and was met with shrieking, "Don't touch me! Don't come close to me!" For this particular daughter this is a common theme and crops up randomly during angry raging. Unfortunately it has become the norm around here the past four months, so we are learning to cope and working on being un-offendable when we reach out in love and are met with screaming and rejection.

Today's situation was not the angry rage of RAD or even a PTSD episode but one of the smallest things: lice! My daughter didn't want me to hug her because she had sat next to a girl most of the day who was sent home from school for lice and she was afraid she had it and was afraid she would give it to me if I hugged her.

Oh, how thankful I was that it was only lice. I could have jumped up and down right then (but of course I didn't). It was only lice! I love lice. Okay, I love lice compared to angry raging or PTSD episodes. I just grabbed my girlie and squeezed her and told her how those tiny little things don't bug me any more, especially not after our weeks of combing, shampooing, and treating piojos (lice) in Colombia when we were first united nearly two years ago! I brought my sweetie, who was not raging, but who was scratching feverishly, into the well-lit bathroom and combed carefully through her hair. I have gotten pretty good at spotting nits and lice and she didn't have a single one, but she was pretty stressed out about it after all the times she had endured it in her past. I combed her entire head while I heard about the whole school day. There is something about lice that can be so therapeutic for children and parents bonding together. And if you don't believe me I'm certain that you'll agree that it's way better for bonding than the raging of RAD or an episode of PTSD.

Rejoicing tonight that God orchestrates even the smallest things (lice) for our good!