Of Mice and Mosquitoes

10.19.12

There are a few sounds I have come to dislike very much in the past few weeks. One is the sound of a mosquito. It’s not as if I liked the noise in the past, but there is something about these Romanian mosquitoes that make them ferocious. I wouldn’t mind as much if they would simply bite me and move on, but they insist on flying around my ears while I’m trying to sleep. It’s as if they want me to have to get up, turn the light on, and hunt them down. Another sound I have grown to dislike is that of tiny feet running around in the ceiling. There is something quite disconcerting about knowing you have a family of mice living above your head.

When I first started to hear them, I tried not to think too much about it. I thought maybe they would leave after a while, maybe they were just visiting. I hoped, at least, if they lived in the ceiling, I wouldn’t ever have to see them or deal with them. Unfortunately, the mice decided that they liked this house and that they would stay. We started finding evidence of their travels throughout the house, mostly in drawers and cabinets. Then, there was the stench.

There is a closet in the hallway that leads to my bedroom. I started to notice the smell when I walked by it. I hoped it would pass quickly. Instead, it grew worse. Finally, the day came when something had to be done. It was time to clean out the closet. We found the problem quite easily, you simply follow the smell. My fears came true. I not only had to see the mice, there were three little mouse corpses in that closet that had to be removed.

This may seem a little farfetched, but my dealings with the mice remind me of another problem I have been forced to confront: my expectations. Expectations come in unannounced and uninvited. They find a warm place in a dark corner to make their nest and build their family. The pitter patter of their feet may start to annoy me here or there, but it is easily ignored for a time. I let them grow and reproduce until they are running all throughout my mind, effecting my decisions and my emotions. But God is too gracious to let this problem be ignored and, when He kills my expectations, they rot, just like the mice.

The smell is one that cannot be ignored. It must be dealt with. Ever so lovingly, God asks, “Anna, will you give up this? Will you let Me have My own way?” By now, it is silly to try to hold on to my skeleton dreams, though I’m sure I’ve tried. There is only one thing I can do –sacrifice it on the altar where broken hearts are never despised. And when I’ve cleaned out and removed the failed mess of my own plans, I find the space filled with the presence of God.

“My soul, wait silently for God alone, for my expectation is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation; He is my defense; I shall not be moved. In God is my salvation and my glory; the rock of my strength, and my refuge, is in God. Trust in Him at all times, you people; pour out your heart before Him; God is a refuge for us.” ~Psalm 62:5-8