A couple weeks ago Eric got a bad (and I mean BAD) case of food poisoning. I honestly don't think he went longer than an hour without running to the bathroom to toss his cookies - poor thing... =( After 12 hours of this (this all started at 6 in the morning), we finally decided to take him to the emergency room. Don't ask why it took us so long to do the obvious - I honestly couldn't tell ya. I just know that I regret not going sooner...
Anyway, as I was rushing to get myself, Haylee, and two (yes TWO) rather large diaper bags ready for our trip to the ER (you never know how long you'll be there and/or what you'll need with a little one, after all!), I heard Eric's shaky call coming from the bathroom. After running to the bathroom (actually, I'm not sure if you can call what I did running - it was probably more like a super brisk waddle), Eric informed me that he felt like he was about to pass out. Knowing that there was no way possible that my big ole pregnant self would be able to lift him up and somehow manage to get him to the van, I told him that I thought we needed to call an ambulance. I was very shocked and surprised when he actually agreed, since under normal circumstances he would come back with a "I'm okay, babe. I'll be alright."
So, long story short - after the ambulance arrived and carried him off to the ER, 2-3 hours of IV's and tests, and 5 stickers and a grape popsicle later (for Haylee of course... ;) ), we were told that my poor hubby was so severly sick and dehydrated because of food poisoning. We were sent home with instructions on what to eat and what not to eat and a prescription to get filled. Since it was late at night (and I wasn't about to make Eric wait till the next day to get his medicine), the only pharmacy open was at the Walgreens in Enterprise.
So after fighting with Haylee to get her to go night-night (that little booger despises bedtime *sigh*), trying to make sure Eric had everything he needed for my not-so-long absence while I was at the pharmacy, and then frantically rushing about trying to remember where exactly I decided to put my keys when we walked in the door...I finally started making my way to the van.
But that's when it happened.
There, above the door (which has ridiculously large gaps between it and the door frame, I might add), sat one of the largest, ugliest, and most cockiest roaches I have ever seen in my life! I suppose I should tell you that I absolutely DETEST roaches and I am seriously scared of the little boogers. One of my biggest fears goes something like this:
There is a roach on the floor. I step on it with my shoed foot. But the nasty thing doesn't die and somehow squirms out from under my shoe and proceeds to climb up my leg.
You may think it's stupid, but it's one of my fears all the same... I realize that there is a reason for everything that God made, but I really can't figure out what a roach's purpose is. I know God doesn't make mistakes, but I sometimes wonder what He was thinking when he made roaches.
Anyway, you may be wondering why I said it was a cocky roach. The reason: because, I could just tell! That and the fact that the stupid thing cleverly decided to perch himself just out of reach...and it's like he knew how completely terrified I was of him and even more so terrified that attempting to whack him with a fly swatter would result with him jumping off the wall and onto me, which would then result with my husband waking up in the morning to find me dead on the kitchen floor.
Normally, I would scream for Eric that there was a roach and he would coming running to my rescue (okay, more like casually strolling while laughing and rolling his eyes...same difference, right?). This night, however, my handsome knight in shining armor was fast asleep in bed after an absolutely exhausting day and I probably wouldn't have had any luck rousing him. (Is it horrible of me, that after all he went through, I was still tempted to try and wake him up so he could kill the big bad roach for me???) So I did what I deducted I had no choice to do...drag out the step stool, grab the fly swatter, and attempt to kill the stupid thing.
And attempt was all I did.
After about 5 minutes of me shakily standing on the step stool, trying to figure out how close I needed to be while still being as far as way as possible, and letting out many many whimpers (how pathetic am I?), I finally mustered up the courage to take a swing at the thing. Which ended up being a swing and a miss and resulted in me following the roach all around our kitchen and living room as he so cleverly stayed at the very top of the wall, making it that much harder for me to kill him. Eventually, he made his way to a section of our house that made it impossible for me to even attempt to kill him. After telling the roach exactly what I thought of him, I finally gave up and decided to just head to the pharmacy.
I remember thinking how incredibly sad it was that as stressful, hectic, and tiring as our day was - it was the thought of a roach in my house that made me want to cry. No, scratch that - not cry...I wanted to weep. Great big body-shaking sobs! As I fought back the tears, I couldn't help but think of 2 Timothy 1:7.
"For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline."
Call me crazy if you want to. I realize I wasn't being fearful of something 'big' like death or bankruptcy or a failed marriage - it was just a roach! But the entire drive to the pharmacy had me playing images in my mind of how this roach would find me while I was sleeping (that is if I could even fall asleep knowing he was in the hosue...) and then crawl all over me...then crawl in my mouth, or ear, or nose. *shudder* Or he would crawl on the ceiling in our bathroom and then jump on me when I needed a potty break... *shudder once again*
After playing every possible scenario of what this (ultimately) harmless little bug could do to me, I started to think of how stupid it was that I was literally living my life in fear over something so silly. But I couldn't help how I felt. Then I realized (again, call me crazy if you want) that my fear of roaches was something that I had never prayed about before. Maybe because I thought it would almost seem like a sin to waste God's time over something so small and insignificant. But I had to remind me that God loved me and wanted me to share with him my fears and to ask for His help.
So for the first time in my 26 years of living, while driving to the pharmacy, I prayed that God would take away my fear of roaches. Simple as that. Actually, it was probably more like begging God to take away my fear of roaches. And do you know what I felt after praying?
Nothing.
There was no overwhelming sense of peace. No voice from Heaven calling down to reassure me that everything would be okay. No way whatsoever for me to know (really know) if God had answered my prayer or not. I would simply have to wait till the next time I encountered a roach to know for sure (which wasn't exactly something I was looking forward to...).
Fast forward a couple weeks...I was at home, chatting away on the phone with my sister, when I walked into the kitchen to get something. There, on the wall, was a large, ugly, cocky roach! Was it the same one as before? I honestly couldn't tell ya, but he definintely had the same game plan as the first one - stay as close to the ceiling as possible to make it that much harder for me to kill him.
So I'm sure you're wondering how I reacted, felt, and handled the whole situation. If you're not...well, you sat hear and read my ramblings for this long, so I'm gonna tell you anyway! ;) I can honestly say that (while a little bit nervous) I was able to climb onto the step stool and calmly whack (and KILL!) the thing with a fly swatter! All sans whimpering! AND while still on the phone with my sister. Talk about multitasking at it's best! ;)
Maybe it's not a big deal to you. Maybe you think I need to be admitted to a psych ward. But I can honestly say that I feel like God has answered my prayer! Now, that's not to say that if/when I see a roach in the future, I won't assign my husband to the task of killing it...but I really think that I'm on the road to recovery!
----
On a completely unrelated note: Today is the day that I mentioned in my last blog - Eric's birthday! On the menu today is potato chip chicken (one of his favorites) with potatoes and cauliflower soup. It's his day for Haylee and I to spoil him to pieces...and what did he have waiting for me when I stepped out of the shower? A towel and robe that he warmed up for me in the dryer...Even on his birthday, he still thinks of me and does the sweetest things!
Gosh, I love him! =) *blush*
No comments:
Post a Comment