When our daughter Heidi was eleven years old, after our family returned from the U.S. to Liberia for a new term of missionary service, she decided she really, really wanted a cat. Mark and I did not love cats but we did love Heidi, so when a friend's cat had a litter of kittens, Heidi was allowed to pick one.
So Richard became a part of our family. He was a good cat as far as cats go, and Heidi enjoyed him immensely. In fact, for a year Richard was practically perfect. But then, things gradually began to change. Because there was no vet service in Liberia where he could undergo a "little operation," as Richard became a man cat he developed the very bad habits that come with cat manhood. After several months of frustration as Richard marked his territory around the house (one time even on a family friend), broke through screens to get out of the house, and basically became more trouble than he was worth, we decided Richard had to go. Even Heidi could see it was no longer working. We found a suitable home and bid him a fond farewell.
A few years later we traveled to the States for our break. Because Mark had figured out it cost no more for us to travel the "hop and skip" method with a night each in England and Ireland than to take a more direct flight, we decided to take advantage of the educational opportunity. We put out feelers for the cheapest available accommodations.
When we arrived in England we walked through the snow and cold to the guesthouse where we had pre-registered. While "bare bones," it was very adequate. It smelled a bit weird, but for the price we paid we couldn't complain. The next day we toured, then spent one more night in London. By the time we navigated the airport in England and flew to Ireland, we were exhausted and very happy to be able to collapse in our very modest digs, an old house renovated to become a cheap hotel. We were a bit dismayed that, while it was clean-enough looking, the management, who obviously never heard of Fabreeze, had allowed pets in the room.
The next day, after a bus tour of Dublin, we arrived at the airport for our flight to the States. After a harried check-in and walk to our gate, we were very happy to be headed homeward. Once on the plane, my husband, ever the comfort freak, decided to slip off his shoes. As he did so, a truly horrible oder wafted from beneath the seat. Frantically I whispered, "Mark, put your shoes on! It's us! We're the ones who smell!"
To my horror, I realized the oder that was unpleasant in the first hotel and truly stinky in the next one, was not from other peoples' pets. Before his departure from our home, Richard had obviously sprayed in the brand new tennis shoes Mark had been saving in the bottom of the closet for our trip back to the States. And the longer Mark wore them the worse the smell became. So now, several countries beyond Liberia and miles of tourist-style walking later, the pads of the shoes were completely moist and releasing a smell reminiscent of a barn full of Tom cats. I was truly mortified.
Yet how like that I have been in my spiritual life! Busily judging others while oblivious of the obvious—the stink was coming from me. But how patient God is. Not only does He not hold His nose and tolerate me, He cleans me up from the inside out.
David, after his sin with Bathsheba, gives one of the best confessions recorded in the Bible.
See Exceedingly Abundantly Above All I Could Ask or Think.
See The Great Rewarder.
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| Richard with foster baby - 2005 |
A few years later we traveled to the States for our break. Because Mark had figured out it cost no more for us to travel the "hop and skip" method with a night each in England and Ireland than to take a more direct flight, we decided to take advantage of the educational opportunity. We put out feelers for the cheapest available accommodations.
When we arrived in England we walked through the snow and cold to the guesthouse where we had pre-registered. While "bare bones," it was very adequate. It smelled a bit weird, but for the price we paid we couldn't complain. The next day we toured, then spent one more night in London. By the time we navigated the airport in England and flew to Ireland, we were exhausted and very happy to be able to collapse in our very modest digs, an old house renovated to become a cheap hotel. We were a bit dismayed that, while it was clean-enough looking, the management, who obviously never heard of Fabreeze, had allowed pets in the room.
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| Heidi and Jared in front of Buckingham Palace - Jan. 2008 |
To my horror, I realized the oder that was unpleasant in the first hotel and truly stinky in the next one, was not from other peoples' pets. Before his departure from our home, Richard had obviously sprayed in the brand new tennis shoes Mark had been saving in the bottom of the closet for our trip back to the States. And the longer Mark wore them the worse the smell became. So now, several countries beyond Liberia and miles of tourist-style walking later, the pads of the shoes were completely moist and releasing a smell reminiscent of a barn full of Tom cats. I was truly mortified.
Yet how like that I have been in my spiritual life! Busily judging others while oblivious of the obvious—the stink was coming from me. But how patient God is. Not only does He not hold His nose and tolerate me, He cleans me up from the inside out.
David, after his sin with Bathsheba, gives one of the best confessions recorded in the Bible.
Have mercy upon me, O God, According to Your lovingkindness; According to the multitude of Your tender mercies, Blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, And cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my transgressions, And my sin is always before me. Against You, You only, have I sinned, And done this evil in Your sight--That You may be found just when You speak, And blameless when You judge. Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, And in sin my mother conceived me. Behold, You desire truth in the inward parts, And in the hidden part You will make me to know wisdom. Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.I truly hope the smell of those shoes followed us out of the rooms. However, if you're an American visiting England or Ireland and management refuses to let you stay in the cheap guesthouse or hotel you found because a family visiting some years ago ruined it for everyone, do me a favor. Please don't tell them you know us. Sadly, we're the "ugly Americans" who burnt that bridge for you. So very sorry.
See Exceedingly Abundantly Above All I Could Ask or Think.
See The Great Rewarder.
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