Of Bed Bugs and Real Disasters

I feel a bit numb. I can’t fully explain it. It is one of those things that comes on gradually, as you slog through life and enjoy little moments here and there, but generally don’t get quite enough sleep and don’t really process the things going on around you, both at your micro-world level and in the big picture of this country and the world. Maybe others can relate…

It started by ending our summer and starting school. I was ready for school on the one hand—excited to get into a different routine; excited for three of my kids to head off to the local public school (biking to school is so fun and way better than driving to multiple schools like last year). Yet I was not ready for school on the other hand—I hadn’t prepped much for homeschooling my oldest through 6th grade, and somehow it feels weightier than 5th grade. Not to mention the new curriculum the school district has for language arts that felt a bit overwhelming at first (I like to do things right, and it had a lot of pieces to figure out). Anyway, we were going to get into a routine.

Then I found the bed bug. I had been experiencing bites all over my arms and legs (mainly on one side) for a few weeks, and had started to wonder, but kept dismissing it—our house is clean; our mattress is not old… But I know a lot more about bed bugs now than I did then, and those things really are irrelevant. Anyway, Jeremiah was gone that night—trying to help address the carpenter ant problem up at my extended family’s cabin (ironic)—and I woke up at 3 in the morning and started to rip apart the bed. There it was: a flat brown bug. I screamed inside my head, grabbed a tissue, smashed it, and put it in a plastic bag. I set the bag up on the top of the dresser, where it sat, tormenting me. I looked over at the bed. I didn’t want to touch it. I didn’t want to carry the sheets to the washing machine in case one dropped somewhere else in the house… I went to my computer and of course looked up bed bugs. Sure enough—I knew it was what I had found. Aaahhhhh!

What followed were two weeks of utter chaos (in my little world). There were the normal things: adjusting to school routines, legal work picking up, preparing to start the Fall Quarter of ministry on campus at UC Davis, etc.  And then there was the bed-bug related things: sleeping on the couch and staying out of our room as much as possible; just to be extra cautious, moving everything but furniture out of not just our bedroom, but every bedroom in our house.  We put all our stuff into black plastic bags and let it sit in the sun or in a hot car for at least a day. Luckily (providentially, really), it was the hottest possible week for September, with temperatures between 100-108 most days. That meant that I didn’t really have to worry about any of our stuff being contaminated. Then the exterminator came and sprayed the rooms (thank you to those who taught us about wise budgeting and emergency savings). I was thankful to have it done; but the paranoia took longer to wear off…

IMG_0492

Then came the task of moving everything back into the house. Ugh. It all took forever.  I tried to help the kids stay upbeat by talking about all the positives – a fresh, clean start; getting rid of things we didn’t need; re-organizing. And I had to admit that God did bless us in the midst of it all, between the hot weather and the opportunity to take stock of all our unnecessary stuff. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t that bad.

Yet it had thrown me off. It stressed me out to have so much chaos around me—the emotional state of moving without the excitement of being somewhere new…  I felt bad that it was affecting me so much. I felt bad that I was so focused and consumed by my micro world problems.  Who really cared?

Meanwhile, in the real world, so many more important and painful things were raging—hurricanes wiping out neighborhoods and devastating cities; flooding completely destroying homes; insensitive and hurtful rhetoric bashing people because of their perspectives on certain topics; gunmen destroying lives for seemingly no reason; friends going through relational trauma.

I wanted to engage. I tried to engage by reading about needs and praying for others, by serving where I am in little ways. I spent time with the Lord and tried to process how to help in view of the natural disasters. Those things have been good, but they haven’t totally taken away my worn-down feelings.

I don’t think it is all bad to be in a season of weariness. It isn’t the same as lacking joy. I can be tired and feel the weight of the world’s troubles, yet remind myself of the profound truth that God is both with me in my personal struggles and aware of the pain and brokenness in the whole world. I can remember to not put too much weight on my temporary troubles and focus on thanksgiving, and yet not deny that it has been hard. I can allow myself to process and grieve, and bring my full self to the Lord.

After all, the Bible tells us:

  • God cares about us as individuals, saying that he numbers the hairs on our heads (Lk 12:7) and values us more than the birds and flowers that he also takes care of (Mt 6).
  • “the Lord is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. The Lord is good to all, and his mercy is over all that he has made.” (Psalm 145: 8-9)
  • Jesus said: “I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” (Jn 16:33)
  • We are to humble ourselves before the Lord and cast all our anxieties on Him, “because He cares for you.” (I Peter 5:7)

I know that my troubles are minimal, but they help me to understand and have compassion on those who must be facing the numbness on a whole different level. I am praying for them. And I am clinging to hope in the midst of this troubled world; I am choosing thankfulness to the God who cares.

Advertisements