[Today’s run: watson road, 3.4 miles]
We had a couple of mice in the kitchen the other day. We get those in the winter. I think they are coming down from the attic through the wall and coming out behind the kitchen cupboards. The people who made our house were not extremely concerned with trivial details like whether the walls were plumb, so there is probably a gap between the cabinets and the wall. We have some traps in the cabinet under the sink. That is where we usually meet.
Anyway, the mice were in the traps but not dead. I threw them out in the back yard. They may find their way back to the attic again, or not.
Had an interesting conversation the other day about people who go from church to church looking for “help”: help with child-sitting or rides to the doctor or help finding a job. That’s good. But maybe they decide they would rather not work, rather not get a car, just keep getting “help”.
I’ve been in the place of asking for help over an extended period of time. I know I leaned pretty hard on my social network to bail me out. Most of them came through and some did not. I actually appreciated the people who said no as much as those who said yes. It’s good to have limits. I thought at the time that I was operating under “emergency rules”, that my instant needs would come to a quick end, I would get my problems under control and be able to take care of my own needs again. And it more-or-less worked out that way except for the “me” part. Relief eventually came and I was able to handle most of the load again myself.
So I’ve been thinking about the cost of living. Not the cost of pizza and soda pop, the cost of consumption: eating and breathing, driving the car, burning fuel, and killing the odd mouse or cow or whatever else I happen to need in order to feed me or keep my house clean and healthy. And leaning on other people, interrupting their free-will, to come to my aid (not more than necessary, I hope).
I’m thankful to be at the top of the food chain, don’t get me wrong. I’m not sad to be alive, nor am I one of those folks who won’t consume… far from it. But I do wonder occasionally if my production is equal to my consumption. I think that, most days, probably not.
At church we hear: Man’s chief and highest end is to glorify God, and fully to enjoy him forever. (Westminster Larger Catechism) So I take it that my rapacious existence is somehow worthwhile if I can summon up some appreciation for the privileged position.
I tried to thank the people that helped me (and still help me). And I try to be thankful for the hamburger and the mouse-free house (even though the walls aren’t completely straight).
Glory to God, life is good.