I will say I am not afraid of mice. The sight of one doesn't make me jump, scream, or run out of the room. I look at it and think, "Oh, there is a mouse. How did it get in here?" That being said, I have been double-checking my shoes before putting them on. I don't want any furry creature jumping out of them--not that I'm afraid of mice or anything.
So what do you do? First off, I called the Terminix guy. That was after I had sanitized my counter (several times), swept my kitchen floor, checked the drawers and cabinets, and made sure they were all closed tightly. Terminix man finally came and put additional bait boxes under and around my house.
A few days later that little guy (the mouse, not the Terminix man) ran right in front of me as I was heading for bed. OK, mousie was still hanging around, and getting pretty brave at that. At least he was staying off the counter. Well, that's what I think because I hadn't found any droppings up there. But I did begin mulling over my choices of getting rid of him. Extermination, in other words. POISON! SNAP TRAP! LIVE TRAP! Decisions like this are hard for me.
Poison isn't the nicest way to die. Besides, I didn't want the little guy to enter the food chain and poison some other creature like a cat, hawk, or owl; and I really didn't want him dying in the couch or under the hutch where I would smell him before I saw him. Those things just aren't right.
Snap traps? They usually kill instantaneously, but I don't like hearing the snap followed by the resulting sound of the mousie's last jerking throes of death. At least the little guy would have died with visions of peanut butter in his head. I'm just a softy.
Live trap? No! My one experience was with a mouse trapped alive, but dying in terror while trying to escape. Nope. No way.
I know I have said this already, but these types of decisions are so hard for me.
Then came the next evening, Friday night to be exact. I'm sitting in the living room when the now familiar mouse came out from under the couch and stopped just inches in front of it, and three feet from my feet. I looked at him. He looked at me, and proceeded to put his head on his paws to rest. Since he didn't move for the next half hour I figured he was either very brave, very sick, or very dead. I thought about catching him in a plastic container and dumping him outside, then changed my mind when I pictured him jumping up and running straight at me--not that I'm afraid of mice or anything. I finally got up, turned off the lights, and went to bed. The mouse stayed on the carpet in front of the sofa. Sleeping?
I truly expected to see little Montegue Mouse, yes he has a name by this time, still on the carpet and quite cold and stiff as morning rolled around. That was not the case. Instead, he was no where to be found. Soooo, I stopped at the store on the way home from church and bought some d-Con. I also borrowed a couple snap traps from my son. Now I had to do the deed I didn't want to do. I didn't do it either. I prayed instead.
"Lord, I don't want this creation of yours living in my house. I really, really don't want him in here, but I don't want to kill him either. I am going to wait two more days before taking action. Please get him out of here for me. Amen" Now, that may sound silly to you. It sounded silly to me, too, but that is what I prayed.
This morning I got up, went into the kitchen to fix breakfast. Hoorah, still no droppings on my counter. I enjoyed my orange juice and scrambled eggs. I then went into the living room to get my lap top and check the floor in front of the sofa. All was well there--no Montegue. Then I bent over to pick up my pen from the floor and caught sight of something under the buffet. There he was, Montegue Mouse! There he was, stretched out in plain sight and dead as a door nail. You can't get much deader that that.
I thanked God for this answer to my prayer. I didn't have to set a trap or put out d-Con. I didn't have to experience the aroma of his decaying body from who-knows-where. Montegue Mouse was in full view. All I had to do was pick him up with a paper towel, take him outside, and deposit his little white-tummied body in a soon-to-be funeral pyre of tree branches and brush clippings.
On my way back to the house I realized that I really had not wanted to kill Monty, that cute, fuzzy, mousie who had become a boarder and paid no rent. I also realized that I had absolutely no problem having bait boxes placed under my house to poison those pesky invaders from the outside world. What was the difference? Here it is. Monty had a face. I had seen his white tummy. I had looked him straight in his dark, black eyes. I had watched his whiskers twitch. He not only had a face, he also had a name. I wanted the best for him.
Funny as it seems, dead Montegue Mouse started my Discover Jesus Moment.
Let me go back a few years. Before my involvement in prison ministry many years ago, prisoners were bad guys, losers, scary, evil men. By going behind bars once a week, learning to recognize faces and learn names, my attitude toward them changed. They became people just like me; and I wanted the best for them.
Before serving meals at the Wenatchee, WA mission many years ago, I thought those hungry types of people were all worthless drop outs, junkies and alcoholics. Then I met them. I got to recognize their faces, learn their names, and hear their stories. There was the architect who lost his entire family in a terrible tragedy. He hadn't coped well. There was the woman whose husband had left her with small children and without any money. There was... They were all people just like me; and I wanted the best for them.
Some inmates are deeply scarred, damaged, evil men. Some are just kids who made bad choices that resulted in prison terms. The others are somewhere in between. Some people at the mission had serious mentally illness. Others had experienced life changing crisis and couldn't handle them. But in all situations we have this in common: our sinful nature, a face, a name, and a God who knows, loves, and want the best for us.
Today Jesus showed me something in a new light. It isn't too difficult to help people in need whether overseas or next door. We can donate money, food, clothing, medical supplies, educational materials, and whatever else is needed. But if we really want to "show and tell" Jesus, we must look at each other face-to-face and eye-to-eye, speak each other's names, and share our stories. That's when we can minister in ways that touch hearts, both theirs and ours.
Face-to-face can be scary.
Lovin' the sunny day and the Son,
Jan
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