Finding Joy in the Yuck

Once upon a time, my husband and I, and our two daughters rented a beautiful little cottage at the beach. No sooner had we walked through the front door than we spotted a dark, oval-shaped something high up on the vaulted ceiling. To be exact, my husband and daughters saw it. I hadn’t looked up yet and before I got the chance, they ushered me quickly back to a bedroom with my luggage. I knew immediately what this meant—they had seen a roach…

Roaches. No big deal, right? Wrong. You’re wrong. They’re a big deal. And in the case of the roach on the ceiling in that postcard-perfect cottage, and all of his vast, extended family whom I got to meet that week, they were an enormously big deal because they were enormous. Almost otherworldly in size. Like that movie I accidentally saw a long time ago— Starship Troopers. Have you seen it? Don’t. Huge alien bugs in that movie. But seriously, although the roaches in the cute cottage were not as big as the ones in Starship Troopers (thankfully) they were bigger than I’d ever seen, and plenty big enough to sidetrack me from all the beauty surrounding our family that week at the beach. 

As I sat on the bed listening to numerous loud thuds and exclamations from the other room, I knew I had to choose right then and there how I was going to face the week ahead. Medication would have been helpful but I didn’t have any mind-numbing, roach-ignoring medicine on hand. How in the world could I rest and be cheerful in the presence of those nasty bugs? How could I sleep at night? Or confidently put on my shoes in the morning? But there was more than my own comfort at stake. My husband and kids were looking forward to this week and if I became a paranoid basket case, that might make it hard for them to enjoy their vacation. So I prayed. I prayed for God to help me to be thankful, courageous and joyful. And that’s when I had a funny idea.

I decided to name every roach I saw and to give each one it’s own complicated backstory (before smacking it with a book or a shoe). I wish I’d written it all down, because the stories were lots of fun, all interweaving together since I figured the roaches were probably all related. A tragic comedy of sorts. And as my husband, my kids and I took turns naming the nasty critters, the intensity of my horror over them faded a lot. They became part of a story that we actually had fun with. I’m not saying I’m thankful for roaches, by the way. That’s still a long way off. But what I am saying is that God answered my prayer. He’s faithful to give thankfulness, courage and joy even in a house filled with horribly big bugs. 

We really enjoyed that week. But we’re never going back. Ever. 

~Amy