The Mouse Couch

Using his body as a barricade in the kitchen doorway, one of the boys breathlessly commanded, "You DO NOT want to go in there!" Oh, dear!!  I don't?!  The gasps, whispers, and wide-eyed glances the kids exchanged worked like Morse code and put me on full alert that something disastrous was brewing.   Never being one to follow instructions, I waded through the sea of kids and broke through the spiderweb of arms and legs.  Like the Pied Piper, I led the way as the kids followed behind in an eerie, unnatural, silence.  Gone was the excited chatter, high fives and cheers about the "dream, wrap-around Friday-night-movie couch" that was being delivered.  The air was thick with anticipation on what my reaction would be as I stopped in front of my irritated husband holding a cushion and pillow that looked as if they were sniper shot, riddled with holes and oozing with stuffing.  "What is that?!" I asked in dazed shock wondering how on earth a new couch with holes could escape unnoticed under the noses of both the owner of the furniture store and the delivery guy.  The delivery guy outside with an arm load of plastic explained how it got all the way here from the warehouse undetected, but the holes....how?!  The room erupted in "Icks!" and "Ewwwws!" when my husband announced that the guilty culprit that stealthily produced such mass destruction on our brand new couch was nothing more than a teeny, tiny mouse.  Staring down at the carnage I heard myself reassure my awaiting audience. "It's o.k.  It'll all work out. The furniture people will fix this."  The room was shell shocked with the surprise bomb I dropped.  Cocked heads, squinted eyes and wide open mouths were all I got as the dust settled. "I'm OK!" I added again.  I am?  Am I?  I looked around at the chaos of scattered cushions, plastic, confused kids and a miffed husband.  I gave myself a quick pat down to double check that I truly was unscathed and shockingly found that I really was..... OK!

On my morning run, I smiled as I thought of my successful battle with the mouse couch.  Coming out unscathed was something I could never have accomplished alone.  The grenades of perfection and control that Satan would throw wounded me for years until my Commander in Chief introduced me to the proper armor.  My ears fill with the noise of previous battles I tried to fight alone as I look back on the lonely footprints my shoes left behind in the morning snow.   Becoming deep in thought, my breathing soon gained rhythm and blended with the fun little squeaks and crunches that each new track made in the fresh blanket of snow.   Feeling childlike and energized, I jumped and dodged deeper piles of snow, and quickly sidestepped over a fresh trail of kitty tracks that suddenly appeared.  Happy to have a running partner, even if she were invisible, I ran along side them.  I felt sorry for this little kitty.  It was so cold and she was all alone.  I felt better as I continued tracking her steps and found that she had lots of company.  Deer, raccoon, opossum, squirrel and bird tracks all crossed over her petite, little kitty prints.  Being one to always have a story, I began writing as I ran, envisioning each little critter offering the lost, abandoned kitty help in her frightening new life in the country.  The deer warmly greets my kitty and points the way to the freshest, sweetest water in the county to help quench her thirst.  The raccoon and opossum offer warm hugs of friendship as each unselfishly reveal where the yummiest food can be found to endlessly fill her growling, empty tummy.  Filling the silent and still winter air, the friendly chatter of the squirrel soothes my kitty's heavy loneliness as it happily bounces along side her.  Offering beautiful song, the bird fills my kitty's heart with hope as he flies high above the house tops in search of the perfect family and a new forever home.   At the end of my run I disappointingly stop in front of our mailbox as my kitty's tracks continue.  Remembering she isn't alone, I smile as I follow her tracks as far as my eyes can see.

Like my kitty, Jesus has strategically placed people to help me on my own journey through life's landmine of emotional battles.  Family, friends, Pastors, my Christian therapist and the most steadfast and loyal fighter in my regiment, my husband.  Sometimes, faithful comrades can be forgotten and its during a fresh battle, or in my kitty's case, a fresh snowfall, that their tracks can be seen and remembered again.  Sitting together on our new, mouse-less "dream, wrap around Friday-night-movie couch", I wiggle, fluff and plump trying to find "my" spot.  It feels different from our 15 year old, broken in, familar couch.  Sensing my discomfort with the change,  my husband shoots me a worried look knowing me well from all our years of previous battles together.  Remembering the snowfall and my kitty I smile reassuringly, "I'm Ok!"