We have a mouse problem.  We found a baby mouse in the guest bedroom.  Alex painstakingly worked to trap it and then  it was driven to another neighborhood where it was humanely released.  The dogs found a mouse too,  and well, let’s just say they didn’t volunteer to deliver it safely to the great outdoors.

We had a pest guy come out today and the news was not good. Though up until this week there had been no evidence of their presence the insulation in the attic told a disturbing tale.   The pest guy told us that he suspected they have been freeloading for about 6 months.  But we shouldn’t feel bad about it, he said 95% of his clients have mice and never know it until they finally happen to see one. Even Rascal Flatts…

I will be honest, knowing that fact did make me feel slightly better, but it was a fleeting comfort.

Right now, as I type this in the kitchen I strive to keep so clean, they are probably scurrying around above me.  Their tiny scuffles unheard thanks to their cushy fiberglass home.   Good news: the pest folks can seal up our house like Fort Knox. Bad news: it will cost about the same amount as the contents of… Fort Knox.

There is a part of me that wishes we had never seen the mouse.  If they just stayed up there I could continue to religiously spray Method cleaner on my counters living in the delusion that our house was truly as clean as it looked.

The news of the mice situation has taken the wind out of my sails.  It feels a little futile to clean.  In fact I was about to do dishes, when I decided to write a blog instead.  Because what is the point really?  I will wash them now and then rewash them when I need to use them again until this problem is resolved- the clean freak’s version of pushing a rock up a hill.

It made me think though, how much ugliness do I hide behind my clean exterior.  I strive  to maintain a certain image of myself and how I want the world to see me.  Sometimes I can truly believe the line I try to sell everyone else.

A lot of the time I feel tired because, like the care of my counters, I work VERY hard to maintain this appearance of perfection. I have a vision of the person I want to be, so I put so much emphasis on maintaining the outer self (people’s perception of me, my image, my house, my weight, my hobbies) that my interior self becomes an ugly vacant shell.

If I look put together but internally am full of crap what is the point?

I actually stopped blogging for a long time because, in addition to just getting busy with life, the fears took all the joy out of it. Fear that I would have too many typos, no one would read it anyway, that I would offend someone, or the thing I fear above all- contribute nothing of value…  Ultimately that I would be exposed for the broken, imperfect person that I am.  Proven a failure. Inferior.  You might get a glimpse behind the mask.

We talk a lot about “doing life” with others in our church. About being authentic in our community. The thought is that Christ frees us to be honest about who we really are, because we are so deeply loved and forgiven by His ultimate sacrifice.  So here I am being honest:  I work really hard to look sincere, smart, successful, a good mom and wife, and someone who is concerned with others.  But internally I think about myself almost constantly.  I am arrogant and I am not worthy of the friends who have been given eyes by God to see something of true worth in me.   It is in my growing awareness of the silent filth that lurks within my soul that I become more deeply aware of my need of, and gratitude for, my Savior.

I said a few blog posts back that I am learning to let go, and that has been a lot harder than I thought it was going to be.  Because I have tried to let go perfectly (ultimately this just leads to holding on tighter and eventually losing feeling in your fingers until you are forced to drop). But I have seen a few changes. For starters, I am not freaking out nearly as much as I would have 6 months ago about the mice. It isn’t great news, but we will deal with it and life will go on hopefully sans rodents.  And I am also starting to get more comfortable with the realty of my internal pests, that there are way more than I can count- more than I will ever know. And all this brings around a deeper gratitude for grace.

I think that is a good start.

And now it is time to go back to those dishes and just mentally block out what a mouse may or not may not do on them tonight…