At War

It's official: we have mice.

Matt emailed me at work (Thursday) to tell me that a mouse ran across our living room floor - we went to war with traps and sticky paper and killed three mice in an afternoon - it turns out they came out to play every time we left the house. Crazy! (Update: it is Saturday night and we've killed a total of 7)

Our game plan is to kill them until there aren't any left, then seal up the hole where they came from so a new family doesn't take their place. I have less despair than when I opened a cupboard door Wednesday night to see droppings everywhere in our empty, bleached pantry.

I'm also SO glad I married a man like Matt, who is tough enough to get rid of the bodies! :) I'm not squeamish about them being dead, but I have this irrational dread that if I have to touch one, THAT's the one that will not actually be dead, will flinch alive and bite me - as if mice play dead inside cupboards to prank people.

Being at war with the mice drew me back to a verse that struck me last week - Colossians 4:12 "Epaphras, who is one of you, a servant of Christ Jesus greets you, always struggling on your behalf in his prayers..." I love that reminder that prayer can be a struggle. Not just a struggle to do it, but a way to fight, to go to work spiritually for others or ourselves.

I struggle (the bad way) to be diligent in prayer, often procrastinating, postponing, and neglecting to do it, but every time I do I remember how deeply I need it. I pray that I would be quicker to pray, to take advantage of this weapon and tool that God has given us - free access to the King of kings and Lord of angel armies! He is my Defender, Comforter and Provider, and I know I need to be in his presence to truly thrive.

So this war with the mice is a good reminder for me of the struggle I need to also make in prayer, to "stand mature and fully assured in all the will of God" (that's what Epaphras prayed for the Colossians).

Disappointment and Trust

I had dinner with my mentor on Monday, and one of the things we talked about is how difficult it is to recover from disappointments that make us feel betrayed by God. The scenarios are different for different people, but I think that most people experience some kind of crisis that makes them question God - why He didn't intervene to save a loved one, rescue a relationship, open doors for a job or a mission trip. These things can shake the foundations of our faith: Doesn't God know what's going on? Doesn't he care?

I think an important realization to come out of these crises is that it's not personal. Each of us is a thread in the tapestry God weaves in the world, and I think part of spiritual maturation is realizing there is more to God's plan than loving me and me loving him. He is at work in the world, building a kingdom. We get to be a part of that, and loving him is a huge part of that, and his love for us is the basis for everything else; but his love is also much bigger than us and frequently supersedes what we can understand. Sometimes no matter how long or how hard we cry out for answers, we simply don't get one. We have to trust that he knows and he cares; we must learn to live beyond the self-centered emotion of betrayal and trust God again - to be able to seek his guidance without guarantees other than his goodness and love.

Shadows and Substance

Colossians 2:16-17 says,“Therefore let no one pass judgment on you in questions of food and drink, or with regard to a festival or a new moon or a Sabbath. These are a shadow of the things to come, but the substance belongs to Christ.”

This passage struck me when I read it on the subway Wednesday morning, and it kind of stuck with me unsettled until that evening. After prayer meeting, I was visiting with the two other women who were there and shared how God is encouraging me so much this week through Colossians, and how this passage appealed to me even though I didn’t fully understand it.

Nimoy was wandering around in the church library while this chat was going on, and I thought about how crazy his shadow looks, how if his shadow was all I could see, I would never imagine what he was (a dog), much less what kind of dog he was (wriggly and sniffy). On the flip side, because I can see Nimoy, I can see how his shadow works.

It’s hard to write out thought processes that happen in a second, so I hope you’re still with me. Basically I realized that trying to figure out the rules will get you nowhere if your mind isn’t first set on Christ. He is the substance that gives meaning to the shadows. It doesn’t mean that shadows aren’t important, but they can be distractions if they’re not kept in perspective. This is encouraging me to continue exploring this theme of the rich hope there is in Christ and sinking spiritual roots into it!