Mouse poop

We have a major mouse problem without Sophie the cat around. We've had it for at least a month. I know it is there, but I'm too grossed out to face it. A few times I have done a cursory wipe down in a few of the most obvious places, but I've been living in some pretty deep denial of the situation. Today, Marcos and I finally pulled out the pots and pans and faced the poop. I scrubbed the cupboards and he vacuumed it all away. It was gross work. I discovered a mouse nest in a lunch box and promptly tossed the whole thing. I put out poison and washed everything with hot soapy water. I talked to Audrey for advice on how to prevent the problem again and most importantly I called our local vet for a new cat.

To my children's eminent horror, the "parable of the mouse poop" has been developing all afternoon. My mouse problem is so like sin. I know it is there and it disgusts me. I ignore it and repent of only the parts that are visible to others but the problem is still there. It isn't until I pull everything out in the open (full disclosure) and wash with the atoning blood of Christ that the problem goes away. I can get advice from others who have faced similar problems (bearing one another's burdens) and put something in place to prevent my sin from burdening me again (cat). The longer I wait, the bigger the problem and the longer it takes to clean it up, but it is never, ever too late. Most importantly, I don't clean up the mess by myself. The Savior is right there helping me, giving suggestions, and sometimes just taking over when I'm too overwhelmed.

I plan to publish the collected works of my parables for my children. I have no doubt that my works will be sources of mock-fests for generations, but I just can't help myself.



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what a weekend

One of my great insecurities is that I don't have the gift of discernment and empathy that my Mom has. She is very good at identifying people's needs and being empathetic to what their feeling. I am better described as oblivious. Truth is, I'm not a very good friend most of the time because I'm not sensitive to what my friend's need.

This weekend I went on a whirlwind trip to see Betsy. It was a fantastic 24 hours. We went to the temple, spent money at Nordstroms, cleaned out closets, tried on clothes and figured out what was going to go on James headstone. It was fun and relaxing, but it was more than that. What felt so good to me was knowing exactly what she needed. I knew she needed new pajamas and what style and size to get. I knew she didn't want to waste time going out to eat--we were fine with cheese sticks and granola bars! I knew how important it was to get the wording right for James headstone.

The thing is, I don't exactly know how it feels to lose a spouse and i would never suppose to know what Betsy feels. But it feels so good to be totally confident in our friendship, that any effort I make on her behalf will be what she needs, not just a weak attempt at service. When I die I would like to have this confidence in all my relationships, including my husband and children. Betsy has again inspired me to be a better person, rely more on the Holy Ghost and act in faith.


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