Adventures in Writing #1 - {A Mouse in the House}

Tuesday Thoughts is where I pick a topic that’s on my mind, set a timer, start with “Go”, write about it for five minutes, and end with “Done”. Editing is non-existent and I am grateful for that since I can spend hours fine-tuning and agonizing over a post.  Even writing this paragraph, I've written and rewritten it about five times, sent it to my hubby to edit, rewritten it, and am still debating whether it's acceptable.

In this exercise, I am enjoying the freedom to just write, without stressing about perfection or what others might think. This is my lovelimess after all.

...

GO

A mouse in the house.

Can it be that I'm afraid? My stomach flutters as I grab the broom. It is so small. What if it is carrying diseases? my stomach clenches. Do I touch it?  It could bite me. It could infect me.

It scurries from the bathroom and hides in a small corner of our wall.  We've closed it in.

I'm shaking a little, which doesn't make sense.  I can't be afraid of a small animal... What do I have to fear from such a little mouse?

I grab the broom. Can I sweep it out of the house?   What if it runs at me and touches me? It's small eyes look so terrified. I can't hurt it. A part of me wants to touch its soft fur and comfort it. But the fear wins and I want it out. Now.

Andy grabs a garbage can and we use the broom to corral it in. Andy tips the trash can upwards and takes the small creature back to its world.

And it hits me in the gut. Like the Voice breaking through my barriers and I see the Truth I didn't know.

Fear makes us keep our distance. Fear takes away our compassion. Fear steals our sympathy.

Too often I take my broom and sweep my life clean of the small, the hurting, and the "diseased" because I'm afraid. I'm afraid they'll infect my life with their brokenness. I'm afraid that I won't be able to control where they go in my life and how they'll touch me. I'm afraid they will be unpredictable. I'm afraid to let them in. I'm afraid they'll need me.

So I grab my broom and sweep them out. Back to their world.  Just like the little mouse with the fearful eyes. 

And my heart is stirring now with the Spirit, showing me what fear has kept me from. It's kept me from Jesus. It's kept me from walking through the world that He walks in and loving the people that He loves.

And next time? Next time I might ask that dirty mouse to stay and eat some cheese.

Done.