Even still, don't we always wonder about what we don't have--what we have never experienced? Maybe it was the exhorbant amount of time I spent reading 18th and 19th century fiction. Or it could have been all the 'Little House' and 'Dr. Quinn' reruns. But something in me has always cried out for a simpler time--a life away from civilization. I have always operated under the notion that I was planted in the wrong soil. I was a country mouse trapped in the city.
A few months ago I got the opportunity to test that idea. Our family moved out to the country. We have to drive 30 minutes for groceries and an hour for the doctor. The local convenient store (which is still 5 miles from home) is the most trafficked location in the entire town. All the town's news travels through here. And neighbors? Well, with acreage in front and behind us, that leaves only the people to our left and right--which would be vacant houses and a lady who prefers to keep to herself. The only aspect missing from my little pioneer dream was the land--you can't do much with less than an acre.
At first it was like a vacation. Peaceful, quiet, and completely different than what I was accustomed to. And who wouldn't want to wake up to a view like this....
But as time passed and the newness of the adventure waned, I started to learn a great deal about life in country and myself.
First, there was the mice family. Cute tiny little field mice who had made a home within our walls and ventured out each night. Their favorite hangout--our laundry. I had to trash numerous pairs of underwear, which are apparently a delicacy in the mouse kingdom. I also discovered I have an incredibly irrational fear of these tiny creatures. After a week my husband, the hero, irradiated the family of four and we sealed up their tunneling network. So, I can sleep well again--for now.
A few weeks later my husband decided to mow the yard for the first time. And what did he stumble upon? A baby rattler!! That little thing slithered over his foot and my husband, the hero, killed it. Scary. We now have a snakebite kit in our house.
That wasn't our last encounter with a rattlesnake. The next one we found was a bit bigger than our footlong friend. We found this monster in our front yard....
Once again my husband, the hero, went Old Testament and crushed its head. 3 1/2 foot long. Frightening.
Now, I have determined I have a legitimate fear of snakes. Even more so, now I have to teach my two year old to stay away from these creatures. I don't want to instill fear, but an awareness of what wildlife lives among us.
I think she is listening. The other day she drew this. She called it "Two Ouches."
Pretty good likeness.
Now comes the next jolt awake from my blissful pioneer dream. Arachnids. I remember that movie from the 1990s "Arachnophobia". We watched it at my first slumber party in the 4th grade. I am now certain the movie would have been much better if they had used scorpions instead.
I had never seen a live scorpion growing up. I saw a collection of dead ones once. (I had an uncle obsessed with them. He had 3 shadow boxes full). But that was the extent of my scorpion education. Until now...
We had endured the winter without them (apparently they dislike cold). But once the sun started beating down, they started coming in.
We did everything. Home remedies like cedar oil and lavender. Structural modifications...aka plugging up holes (an impossible chore in a 100 year old farm house). We called the pest guy out several times, who claimed hoards of scorpions scattered when he sprayed. But still we killed several a night. One even crawled into bed with my then pregnant self and got my ankle. It burned like heck and made my entire leg go numb for several hours. I would have made a convincing walker on "The Walking Dead" dragging my leg around.
As I lay awake in the livingroom holding my sleeping two year old, I stood guard waiting for another scorpion to attack. It was at that moment that I realized something important: I had seen the face of evil. Don't believe me? Take a look.
Yeah, pretty much.
So, we now know that the area we live in is known in the community for being one of the worst scorpion areas. Now you tell us...
So I could go on and on about adjusting to life out here: an out of control grass fire and 50 mile an hour winds driving fire and smoke toward our home forcing a sudden evacuation and giving life to the hypothetical scenario if-you-had-five-minutes-to-get-out. By the way I failed that one.
Or how about the black widow spider who makes its home too close to where my daughter plays. But "don't kill them. They are the natural enemy of scorpions. They control the scorpion population." Really? Awesome. Failed that one too.
Or what about the complete isolation which makes your house an easy target not just for crime, but repeated offenses. And with an hour response time for our one lone constable, no chance of catching said criminals.
And did I mention it takes forever to get anywhere? Petty. I know.
Thus ends my rosey colored view of life in the country. Things are different out here. I always thought I'd feel at home, but instead I find myself not knowing how to cope. I don't wish to be back in the city. I don't feel at home there either.
Perhaps that is the exact lesson to draw from this experience. I am not meant to feel at home anywhere. I am an "alien and stranger" in this world. My true citizenship lies in heaven, not in the city, and not in the country. I am to grow where I am planted and not long for different soil. Each type of soil has enough difficulty and joy of its own.
What about you? What in your circumstances makes you feel out of place? Have you ever thought that it might be by design that you are where you are--facing what you have to face? I find comfort believing that God engineers our circumstances. It makes it easier to face the trials and easier to give thanks for the joys.
Be faithful where you are. It is not by accident that you are there.
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