African head lice
Noelle Evangelista, got lice. For some reason I thought you couldn’t
get lice in Africa, and I was so wrong. I got the lice my first day
at the orphanage, but didn’t discover that it was actually lice for 6
days. I found bugs in my hair, but they didn’t look like like the
lice that I saw every other day in Elementary School. They looked
more like the common little bugs that are crawling or flying around
here. These bugs were pretty big, compared to the size that American
lice is, and looked like they could fly. I pulled six bugs out of my
hair and started to get concerned because my head was itchy all the
time and my neck was covered with painful bites that I have not had
before (and I have had so many different kinds of bug bites on this
trip, trust me). I actually found one of these bugs in my hair in
church and wanted to save it to show someone so I would know what was
wrong with me. Luckily, Claire had an empty medicine bottle in her
purse, and I put the culprit in there. When I got to the clinic on
Monday that little guy was still crawling around. When the lady told
me I had lice, my jaw dropped, along with my heart, dignity, and
pride.
because I had lice, and I know that’s a little dramatic, but I can’t
help it. I always counted myself lucky because I never got it in
Elementary School, but I somehow managed to get it at age 19.
Actually, as I write this, Claire is telling me that what I have is
actually “nits” and not lice. But I think they are the same
thing, or atleast they are close enough. After all, nits and lice are
on the same treatment bottles. I think nits are just bigger…and
more painful. Back in February I decided I wasn’t going to shampoo
my hair anymore and let my body regulate the oil that my scalp gives
out (after not shampooing for 6 months your hair can maintain itself
naturally). This would save money, time, and would help me to live
more simply. Another benefit to that is that my hair would be dirty
enough for lice to not want to live in it. Turns out that my hair
started regulating it’s oil in about 2 months and was considered
“clean.” My hair was never ever greasy, and actually looked good!
pride dropped when I found out that I had lice, and I want to go into
that a little more. Looks are/used to be an idol in my life. Jesus
and I am are still working through this, but recently it went back
down hill. I started thinking about all the new clothes and shoes I
was hoping to buy when I got back to America, and how I was going to
wear makeup and get rid of this lightened hair that I now have,
courtesy of the African sun. Having lice struck that dream to the
core, somehow. It really convicted me of how I was trying to let
myself go back to how I used to live life. A life of trying to
impress people with my looks and finding my acceptance through other
people. But something God has been teaching me a whole lot about is
honoring how He views me. “Listen, O daughter, consider and give
ear: Forget your people and your Father’s house. The king is
enthralled by your beauty; honor him, for he is your Lord (Psalm
45:10-11).
bit like a leper. My teammates keep a safe distance from me, whenever
they can, because they don’t want to get this. When I play with the
orphans, and they try to play with my hair, I have to tell them to
stop…and then when they don’t understand what I am saying, I have
to stand up and play with them, instead of cuddling. Lice, or nits,
are just embarrassing. As I walked into the house after buying the
hair treatment, I had to hold back tears because it was so
embarrassing and hurt my pride. There is no way that I could have
lice, never ME! But God allowed it to happen, and He wants to show me
something through this.
now (my sinfulness), Jesus is ALWAYS there and isn’t going to avoid
me because of that. Jesus didn’t avoid the lepers, and the other
people who were “the least of these.” He came to Earth for them,
and they are the ones that were healed by Him or inherited the
Kingdom of Heaven.
is this: Whenever you feel far from God, you aren’t. You’ve just
turned your back to Him. God never went anywhere. God isn’t going to
go anywhere because I have lice or nits. He is staying put and not
running for the hills.
This also reminds me of something going
on here at the orphanage in Mbonisweni. The measles have been going
around Back Door like crazy-it’s an epidemic. Welcome and Joshua
aren’t allowed to leave the house and anyone who hasn’t had their
measles shot isn’t allowed in the house (because the babies either
don’t have an immune system or are too young to receive the
vaccination). I think I’ve talked to two people up there who haven’t
had it. It’s so widespread, yet so painful. One of the missionaries
here had measles and she was in the hospital for a few days and she
was praying, “Jesus, take me!” because it was THAT painful. I was
talking to my friend John Nkosi about the measles and he said that
when people have it, and they have to put the powder/cream on, it
makes them look like a ghost. Of course, this brought on many white
American jokes. When I saw my little man, Joy, at church I could tell
that he had the measles. He wasn’t full of joy and he didn’t have his
trademark smile on his face. I had to pry that smile out of him, but
thankfully it came out of him! When my friend Conride was over at the
orphanage today to play football, I asked him where he was on Sunday
because he wasn’t at church. His response was that he was at the
hospital for 4 days for the measles, like it is no big deal. He
already plays things off as not a big deal, but being that sick that
he was in Temba Hospital for 4 days is a big deal. But what I was
originally trying to say about the measles is how the kids who have
it here at the orphanage are totally alienated because of it. Steven
has it the worst, and he looks like walking death. His already skinny
body is almost skin and bones, his face and eyes are so sunken, and
his face reads fever all over it. He has the white powder/cream for
measles all over him which make him “look like a ghost.” None of
the kids will play with him, and he couldn’t keep up if he tried
because he is so sick. On Sunday he had to stay back from church
because his sickness is airborne. He was slumping as he walked down
our driveway in his baggy clothes and too-light flannel jacket. I was
in the house when I saw him and I was overcome with compassion for
him. I was wearing my only pair of socks, which are white, and ran up
to him and picked him up and hugged him and held him close to me for
a couple minutes. Jesus wouldn’t ignore this little one, why should
I? And now, whenever I get out of the baby house and Steven finds a
way to get out of bed because Mama Dubei is out somewhere, he runs up
to me to hold my hand because I’m the only one who treats him like he
isn’t a leper.
When I went to the Baby House later in
the day with my trash bag full of my sleeping bag, pillow, towel, and
clothes I’ve worn this week, I finally broke down. I started crying
and was incredibly embarrassed for crying, and not having an answer
to give when someone asked me what was wrong. I finally figured out
that God wants me to take me out of my comfort zone. I’m not saying
God cursed me with lice, but he allowed this to happen, so it was
part of the plan somewhere. Here, at the orphanage, things are
easier. I love my hosts, I love my ministry, I love the weather, I
love the country, I love the area, I love the language, I love the
food, I love the culture, I love it all! This compared to Mozambique
is like “heaven.” Mozambique was totally out of my comfort zone,
and this is totally in my comfort zone, for the most part. It’s
actually really cold, and I’m always wearing all of my “winter
clothes” at the same time. I have to wear my winter jacket while
wearing sandals. That was yesterday. Now I only have clothing
appropriate for 100 degree Mozambican weather when it is a wet 50-60
degrees outside during the day. All my clothes and everything warm
and comfortable are all being treated for lice and I won’t get them
back until the end of the week. (Thankfully my hosts had some things
I could borrow. They gave me an awesome outfit. Garrett said it looks
like I’m about to run a mile and then cut down a tree, because of
this outfit) God wants me to depend on him, which I wasn’t doing
before. I was doing things through my own strength, not through His.
Now all I can do is run to him and say, “Daddy, I love you and I
know you love me. Please, help me! I can’t do this without you.”
Daddy.
by a 10-foot pole without my Daddy.
for 11 hours a day without my Daddy.
having bug infested hair without my Daddy.
figure out when I got lice. I was getting a little bit stale and my
flame was dimming for the Gospel, but somehow this whole ordeal made
me love God even more. It’s funny how that works. Things were good,
and I loved God, but when things got really bad, I loved God even
more. I love that I am able to run to God whenever something that I
don’t want to happen happens and receive comfort. I love that Jesus
works that way.
I love my Daddy, and He loves me.
