It’s inevitable; if you live in a 40 year old house, you’re liable to have a mouse or two. I suppose you just don’t EXPECT to see them when they show up.

I was wearing my flannel pajama bottoms with my crusty, old grey youth camp shirt (my most comfortable knock-about outfit). I was standing in front of the stove… I had just finished curing a cast iron pan, and had taken it out of the oven. The urge hit me for Jiffy Pop… that horribly fattening, but wonderfully delicious snack. It sizzled over the flames of the gas stove. My feet were hurting; my calves were stiff. I’d spent the day working on promos for the New Year. Now, the snack!

Back and forth, the aluminum pan slid over the blue flames, and sizzled. I was getting tired of waiting, and wasn’t entirely focused on my surroundings; back and forth, back and forth mindlessly. Quite suddenly, it darted out from under the garbage can, and cut a diagonal line across the kitchen right in front of my feet. My mind raced. “Is it a roach? Is it a shadow? Is it a little furry demon?” Nope. It was a mouse. A nasty, diseased, disgustingly cute little rabies carrier, darting across my kitchen floor.

Now, you’ll have to credit me. I don’t do the “Eeeek! It’s a mouse!” dance. No, I stood there, pretty much in disbelief, not quite grasping what I had seen… half not believing it; the other half not WANTING to believe it. I think part of what I DON’T want to think about is the possibility that this might be a “family mouse…” homesteading in my kitchen, under the dishwasher. Or perhaps a single mother mouse, deciding we have a nice abode, and wanting to bring little mouse-lings into the world under my roof.

Well, we live by the Bible up in my house… I know what the Bible says…

Leviticus 11:29
These also shall be unclean unto you among the creeping things that creep upon the earth; the weasel, and the mouse, and the tortoise after his kind

She’s unclean, baby. As they say in Jackson, Mississippi… She gots to go.

It’s like the little sin. The little habit. The little indiscretion. While it might seem harmless… almost invisible… even cute… it just can’t stay. It staying in my life would be a hazard to me, and my family. It will eat up my provision and my sustenance. It will breed, and fester, and become more than I bargained for. It will spread like a disease in my life. So it has to go.

I lay the traps to capture it. The steel trap of the Word of God. His Word is hidden in my heart so that the mouse of sin can’t take up residence there. The Holy Ghost exterminator is patrolling the dark recesses of my life, to let me know when there is a problem. It is crucial. It’s not something I can let slide. The mouse has to go. It cannot stay. Not for one minute. I can’t jeopardize health… and peace… and sanity… for vermin.

Do you have a mouse in your house? I’m not talking about the furry rodent that darts about the dark corners of your home. I’m talking about the little sin… all but hidden to the world, but ravaging your life in the secret places, and the hidden spaces. Do you have a mouse in your house? If you do, it’s time to lay the trap. It’s time to stop it NOW. Clean the house. Get RID of the MOUSE!