The Case of the Mouse

Recently, my 5 year old has refused to go to the bathroom alone (fun, fun... now not only do I not get to use the bathroom in peace, but I get to attend his every "function" too). I couldn't understand this because this hasn't ever been a problem before. When I finally asked him about it, he told me he was scared of the mouse.

"What mouse?" I asked. I knew what he was talking about. At the beginning of winter, we had a mouse decide to move in with us, uninvited of course. But we took care of the problem (gross, I hate to even admit that we had a mouse).

I explained to him that the mouse is gone.

"But" he whimpered, "his hole is still there."

Ah, yes... the little mouse had made an entry way into our house behind the potty and it was still there. Even though the mouse was gone, there was still a hole, and with that, a chance for that scary mouse to come back.

Isn't that true in our lives? Even without an immediate threat, we fear the hole, the possibility. So many of our worries and fears aren't rooted in the present or any current danger. They are fears of what has been and what might be again. We're so afraid that the mouse might sneak in on us when we least expect it that we let our fears take over our lives to the point that we can't even use the bathroom in peace.

I pray today that we can recognize our holes for what they are: empty threats. My hope is that we aren't bound by the past. The mouse is gone, there's no need to fear the future.