Today is Day 2 of my post-(I hope)-bed bug life.  The bug guys came Wednesday and wondrously declared us bed-bug-free--unless we see any disturbing (to put it mildly) signs. They inspected our beds, nooks, and crannies for about 45 minutes, gathered their carbon-dioxide/hormone-emitting traps, and left.
Am I relieved? excited?  Hmmm.  I'm not sure.  I'm wary of celebrating too early.  Maybe in a few months.
Am I grateful and ready to move on?  Definitely.  Can I move on?  I must.  By God's grace and as much as possible, I will steer my mind away from bed bugs and welcome relief and excitement.
The kids leaped for joy as I released them to take their clothes out of the large ziploc bags stowed in their drawers and in laundry baskets around their rooms.  It was like Christmas morning.  The clutter has strangely reappeared.  It really does look like Christmas morning.
One hundred seven days of middle-class American terror.  I am changed forever.  On Days One and One Hundred Nine, I thought of Matthew 19:29-30:

And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or lands, for my name's sake, will receive a hundredfold and will inherit eternal life.  But many who are first will be last, and the last first.

Have I really left my house or family or anything of great value for God's kingdom?  No, I have not.  But God has loosened my grip on possessions, and I have learned not to love my decorative pillows, curtains, and clothing like I used to.  Do I still appreciate the comfort of my home?  Oh, yes, I appreciate and am so grateful for it!  But I so want those pleasures to be last and for God's kingdom to be first. This awareness and this desire are evidences of God's enabling and sanctifying grace in my life.  How amazing that He can work in such mysterious ways in so many lives--all simultaneously and woven together perfectly!

A lot has happened with our friends Q and M. After Q got back from camp, his family was evicted from their home.  Much has gone on in the five weeks since then. Today the boys' mother finally agreed to enter a drug rehabilitation program and sign over temporary guardianship to a family in our church.  I know, because we're dealing with an addict, that all this progress could vanish by the time I sign out.
But one thing is certain:  God is working. ("Aslan is on the move."  I always got goose bumps when I came to that part in the tales of Narnia.)  He is working in me, in my family, in Q and M, in Q's mother and family. His arms of redemption are far reaching and infinite. Our bed bugs were not random.  They were lovingly, gently intentional.  If I ever see another one, I will probably need to be reminded of that---right after I stop screaming.
This is why I have blogged about something as hideous and terrifying as bed bugs.  I need to be reminded that God is in control, that He has always kept His promises, and that He always has good plans for me.
I can imagine reading this blog in years to come.  I will probably be amused at my anxiety over such a small inconvenience (time will have softened the pain).  I will certainly be embarrassed at my emotional vicissitudes and self absorption.  I hope I will be in awe of God's grace.  I know that I will look back with clearer vision of what He's done and greater faith in the character of God and in the person of Jesus Christ.
This is my last post.  I trust there will be no sequel blog.  Thanks for sharing my journey and for praying!
Karen

It just occurred to me that throughout the entire two weeks of Olympics, I never suspected any athlete of bed bug bedlam--even after hearing references to the Olympic Village.  This is a miracle!  

I've thoroughly enjoyed the distraction of the Olympics the past two weeks.  Add to that our continued absence of bed bugs. I am one deep-sleeping, relaxed, and grateful woman!  The bug guys come this week.  I'll keep you posted. . . 

An Encouraging Sunday Morning

Before the world was made,

Before You spoke it to be,

You were the King of kings.

Yes, You were, yes, You were.

 

And now You're reigning still

Enthroned above all things.

Angels and saints cry out.

We join them as we sing,

 

Glory to God, glory to God,

Glory to God, forever!

Glory to God, glory to God,

Glory to God, forever!

 

Creator God, You gave

Me breath so I could praise

Your great and matchless name

All my days, all my days!

 

So let my whole life be

A blazing offering,

A life that shouts and sings

The greatness of our King!

 

Glory to God, glory to God,

Glory to God, forever!

Glory to God, glory to God,

Glory to God, forever!

 

Take my life and let it be

All for You and for Your glory!

Take my life and let it be Yours!

Home Again

One week ago today, I had climbed mountains, forded streams, followed rainbows--can you hear the surging orchestra?--and was about to "search high and low" yet again at a hotel on our way home from New Hampshire.  I feel a huge sense of relief and accomplishment at having slept at three hotels, as well as another home, over the course of two weeks.  Not a wink of sleep was lost, praise the Lord! Naturally, I spent a good deal of time scouring mattresses, headboards, nightstands, and carpets on this vacation. This was all great joke fodder, and everyone delighted in watching me search wide-eyed and serious through the room before allowing anyone to breathe or set his overnight plastic ziploc bag down--in the bathtub. After two weeks of vacation though, I had almost become comfortable putting books and bags on the floor, letting my hand touch the nightstand next to my side of the bed while I slept, washing clothes every three days in cold water--in general, not having to think or do as I have the past ten weeks.  It was a vacation from my problems (#whataboutbob?).  Yet for the first time that I remember, I didn't want to come home again.  The eighteen-hour trip back to South Carolina was riddled with dread.  I wanted to stay comfortable, unchallenged, mindless.  Friday as we traveled and Sunday in church God began revealing (again) my idols of ease, comfort, and control.

And a ruler asked [Jesus], “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”  And Jesus said to him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone. You know the commandments: ‘Do not commit adultery, Do not murder, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Honor your father and mother.’”  And he said, “All these I have kept from my youth.”  When Jesus heard this, he said to him, “One thing you still lack. Sell all that you have and distribute to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.”  But when he heard these things, he became very sad, for he was extremely rich.  Jesus, seeing that he had become sad, said, “How difficult it is for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!  For it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God.”  Those who heard it said, “Then who can be saved?”  But he said, “What is impossible with man is possible with God.”   Luke 18:18-27  

I am like the rich young ruler who has just been busted by the God who sees the depths of my heart and calls out my idols.  The ruler clung to his wealth; I clutch ease, comfort, control. The "hindrances" to my joy--bugs, labor, worry, people--are really God's spotlight on my soul, His kind and gentle uncovering of "my precious." The ruler went away sad.  I know how he felt.  How difficult it is for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!  How difficult it is for those who trust in chariots, horses, strength, cleanliness, an unaltered schedule, peace and quiet, predictability, health, intelligence, well-behaved children, a good reputation . . . to enter the kingdom of God!  

I am nonplussed.  I don't understand my weakness and inability to lay my idols down once and for all.  

"Then who can be saved?"  "What is impossible with man is possible with God."  This is why Jesus came.

Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful.  Hebrews 10:23

I run to the author and finisher of my faith.  I trust that this little, momentary affliction--if I can even call it that--is God's plan to perfect my faith.  I trust in His faithfulness, His character, His plan.  
We have seen no bugs or evidence of bugs since our return.  Yesterday the bug guys came, saw, and sprayed.   Good news!  We move on to the final stages of treatment:  one more round of pesticide in three weeks and then a final check three weeks after that.  So long as no more bugs show up.

  

Getting ready to go on vacation involves using suitcases and staying at a hotel.  Help!  The exterminators gave me a low-toxic spray to use on our suitcases (to repel bugs although I don't think we have any there) and in the hotel room (definitely using it there).  Another precaution we're taking is packing our overnight clothes in large ziploc bags to avoid any possibility of bugs from the hotel.  I've discovered, thanks to my aunt, some fantastic, heavy-duty, inexpensive ziploc bags at Dollar Tree, and over the last ten weeks, I have made several trips there, procuring bags by the dozen. I've used these to pack all our clothes and items on bookshelves.  On one occasion, the cashier at Dollar Tree asked me if I were the woman who was buying up all their bags.  Wow.  I didn't see that coming.  Paranoid, I suspected that she suspected me of bed-bug infestation.  I offered some sort of "spring cleaning" explanation (which is true) and started buying my bags at various other Dollar Trees in town.  
So all I have to do now is chill.  The kids are great at this. Speaking statistical logic to myself helps somewhat:  "You haven't seen a bed bug in over a month.  You haven't seen spots on the bed sheets in three weeks.  The bug guys have promoted you."  Speaking truth about God to myself helps infinitely more because these truths are certain and don't change:  "He will never leave me or forsake me.  He delights in me. He never slumbers or sleeps.  He cares for me."  I'm learning slowly and sporadically.  

Celebrating and rejoicing today in my blessings!  I'm a happy wife, a joyful mom, a contented homemaker of an apparently (I'm hoping) bed-bug-free home, a citizen of the best country in the world, and an awestruck child of the God of the universe! 

The bug guys were back today.  They've been coming every two weeks throughout May and June.  This was a "good" visit in my book.  As eager as I to overlook the two possible, sort-of spots I discovered June 17, they promoted us to "every three weeks" status.  My entire family had already declared the house bed-bug free yesterday.
Not so rashly optimistic am I.  I distinctly remember the mental rush to dismiss a bug problem the first ten days of our ordeal and the fluctuations of finding evidence one day and nothing the next.  Am I a realist or a scaremonger?   The answer changes as often as bed-bug proof.
Several weeks ago we watched a video in church.  An elderly Czech woman testified to living most of her Christian life through two totalitarian regimes, the Nazis and the Communists.  She said that the Bible tells us 365 times not to fear.  "And so we didn't," she declared.
What?! And SO we DIDN'T?  That's it?!
Amazing faith! And I can hardly wake up in the morning without itching.  That Sunday this woman was my hero of the day.  I wonder if she had a clue that one day her faith would speak to a spoiled, feeble, 46-year old American woman, whose biggest struggle at the moment is not prison, torture, or death.  It's bed bugs.
I am challenged and humored, but not ashamed.  This is the test God has given to me.  His gifts, sometimes difficult, are always good. They are evidence of His grace in my life, and I am grateful.

Today my youngest, 12, went to camp.  I caught a glimpse of his little head in a window at the back of the bus as it drove out of the church parking lot.  Wow.  I'm a blessed mom.  Keaton was sitting next to Q.  Yes, Q is off to camp as well, one of the good byproducts of Peter's meeting with Q's mom last week.
Scrupulous concern for the camp, our own son, and the other campers took Peter and Q to Walmart this morning to buy everything he needed--clothes, bathing suit, socks, shoes, underwear, sleeping bag, snacks.  From home, we contributed some toiletry items, a well-baked duffle bag, and some disposable towels.  Q was beaming with excitement when I saw him before he got on the bus.  God is so kind!
I have had some polar reflections today about Q and the bed bugs.  One, of course, is the fear that somehow we weren't fastidious enough in preparing Q.  Just one bed bug could wreak havoc in a camp, in homes across the South, in our own home--again.  The other thought is complete and utter gratefulness.  To be part of God's family, His kingdom, His plan is such an undeserved and unfathomable joy.  Why worry about bed bugs, really?
We studied Colossians 4:2 in church yesterday:  "Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful in it and thankful."  How timely for me!  1) Devote myself to prayer--no explanation needed, 2) be watchful--I need to be on my guard against fear, 3) be thankful--God has been and is working, and His promises are unshakable!  My fear will cause me to turn away from the security of prayer to the despair and futility of my own tactics. Watchfulness and gratefulness are the antidotes.
So today as I swing from one deep thought to another, I am confident and thankful that Q and Keaton and I are still in my Shepherd's hands, and nothing can tear us from them. John 10:27-28, "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.  I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand."

Today my oldest turns 22.  I can't believe it.  I must be pretty old.  It's hard to remember what I did before kids (or what I did before bed bugs--ha!).
I spent an hour today doing my weekly vacuum-scouring upstairs.  This time I got my two youngest kids to go before and behind me, moving and replacing furniture in each of the four rooms.  Why haven't I done this before?  It took less than half the time it used to take me to do all that moving and shaking.  (But probably burned half the calories as well.  Tough choice.)
When I got to Kai's room, a piece paper on the wall next to his desk grabbed my attention.  On it is printed II Chronicles 20:12b, "We are powerless against this great horde that is coming against us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.” Acknowledging God's power, sovereignty, and promises to His people, Jehoshaphat stands in front of the assembly and pleads with God to rescue Judah from approaching invaders.
We haven't heard from our little friend Q in three weeks.  Something is wrong.  Peter and the friend who also had a stint with bed bugs back in May went to find him this afternoon.  The visit with his mom didn't go well.
II Chronicles 20:12 has been on Kai's wall since last summer; so I've grown accustomed to it.  But today, as I vacuumed, it was fresh encouragement.  

The bug guys came this past Thursday.  They were not happy that a bed bug was found, albeit dead, in the study (see June 5 post).  With my characteristically prohibitive conscience, I felt like a school girl caught with unfinished homework--even though I feel like I've done all that I can! Perseverance, Karen.  Be tenacious.  Stay the course.  Don't crumble in a heap on the floor and bawl.
I remembered the feeling of hopelessness I felt (and sometimes continue to feel) the first night after Cami found the first wretched bug in her bed.  I woke up at 4 am sobbing loud enough to wake Peter.  I couldn't see any hope for ever ridding ourselves of bed bugs. Peter has often talked of selling our home to move closer to the church.  Kiss that dream good bye.  We have had people of all ilk live in our home. It's now a mind-boggling surprise that we haven't had bed bugs before now.  But is that era of hospitality over forever?  Peter reminded me that night that God is sovereign over the bed bugs, over our home, over me.  Then I remembered that same feeling of hopelessness when I was confronted by my sin and the condition of my soul. Nothing I did was good enough. No good deed or scheme could remedy.  All was lost.  That's why Jesus came.  Hope rushed in.  He is Lord of sin and death. He is Lord of the Bed Bugs.  If He can take away my sin, He can surely take away these little pests.  He is my only hope.  Psalm 42:5, 11; 43:5, "Why are you downcast, O my soul?  Why so disturbed within me?  Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God."
So the bug guys and I attacked the house again Thursday. Saturday was the 11th day of no signs of bed bugs--a record!  Yay!  Sunday I found small spots on Connor's and Keaton's bed sheets.  Hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.

Well, tomorrow the bug guys come again to spray their poison around.  I've been fully expecting to find another bug this week, but, thankfully, none have shown up, not since June 5--if you remember that post.  I'm a big prophet of doom so I have to keep reminding myself to think of what is true--Philippians 4:6-8--not what might be.  I almost broke my pact with Peter tonight, the one about not reading bed bug stories on the internet.  Lured to the internet by my curiosity to identify the cause of a large weird something on my daughter's leg, probably a spider bite, I landed on a bed bug page--yikes!  Click on the return button fast.  Then I found myself staring at nightmare-inducing spider pictures.  Not much better.  I truly long for the day all my enemies in the animal kingdom either become my friends or are annihilated.  Spiders and bed bugs are just another reminder that this is not my final home! Until then it's time for us to exert dominion on those guys.  Bring on the exterminators.

Recently Peter gave me the book Strengthsfinder by Tom Rath so that I could take the online test and discover my "strengths."  My first strength is "restorative"--"adept at dealing with problems, good at figuring out what is wrong and resolving it."  These authors are good.  They just turned neurosis into a strength.  Many of the test's observations were spot on, however.  How did it get to know me so well after only 100-some questions?  Scary.  One insight read, "You enjoy listening to public speakers" in order to gain knowledge to resolve problems.  This is true.  The desire to gain knowledge was revealed in my internet research issues early in May.  A bed bug lecture though sounds very. . . interesting.  I imagine going to a bed bug seminar, listening to lectures and watching larger-than-life pictures of the blood-sucking, mass-propagating vermin on an overhead screen.  I and the crowd begin to scratch ourselves to distraction, several dozen people savagely leap out of their seats and shriek, and exit doors burst open to allow private adjustments.  

Now this scene reminds me of George Washington's Rules of Civility and Decent Behaviour in Company and Conversation, a little book I enjoyed so much I actually had my kids memorize some of the rules when they were homeschooled.  Among my favorite tidbits of advice are 

• "Kill no vermin as fleas, lice, ticks &c in the sight of others; if you see any filth or thick spittle, put your foot dexteriously upon it; if it be upon the clothes of your companions, put it off privately; and it if be upon your own clothes, return thanks to him who puts it off," 
• "Show nothing to your friend that may affright him," and
• "When in company, put not your hands to any part of the body, not usually discovered." 

I'm certain George Washington had contact with bed bugs.
Our family has a new kind of humor these days.  Although I’m not as quick as my kids to think a false bed-bug alarm funny, I am so very grateful for the gift of laughter.

Well, I've regressed a little since Thursday.   I woke up Friday and Saturday mornings feeling itchy and thinking of bbs. Understand that I have not had any bites to itch.  I must be psycho.  Been there before, and I know what to do:  Philippians 4:6-9, "do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and petition with thanksgiving, present [my] request to God and the peace of God which transcends all understanding wil guard [my heart and mind] in Christ Jesus. . . . whatever is true, noble right, pure, lovely (no room for bbs there), admirable, excellent, praiseworthy, think about such things. . . . and the God of peace will be with you."
You may be wondering how we got bed bugs.  Let's just say that you know that you're on mission when life gets messy.  Peter is thrilled (to be on mission).  I'm not wearing my party hat yet. :)  However, lest you think Peter completely naive, his enthusiasm dwindled a little when he realized how much work and money has gone and continues to go into getting rid of these pests.  And lest you think I am a total stoic, keep reading to see how my love for Q and M (our mission) has rattled me.  When our eighteen-year-old daughter Cami found the first bug in her bed May 1, we had our suspicions about where it came from.  A few days later, friends and co-mission laborers confirmed our suspicions when they too found bbs. 
So now we have a bigger problem than bed bugs.  It's the heart-wrenching tension between mission and mess.  You can imagine the struggles I have had in the past month--do we cut off Q and M just to keep our house clean? My heart tells me I can't do that.  But do we continue with Q and M as always?  Do we dole out cash/time/energy one day to rid our home of bbs and bring them back in the next?  Which applies to me in this situation--Mark 4:26-29 or Mark 8:34-36?  Is this a challenge to let God alone do the work in Q's and M's lives (4:26-29) or a test of whether I will save my life or lose it (8:34-36)?  Is my faith demonstrated in what I do or in what I don't do?
I am tortured by these questions and have begged God to give me answers and relief.  I have found so much joy in knowing that Jesus came to earth with much more repulsion than I will ever feel, yet he willingly determined to join humanity and rescue me.  This is an incomparable, unthinkable, unrepeatable sacrifice!  I feel I must duplicate this for Q and M.  But I can't bring myself to do the same.
One Sunday, a day we usually have the boys over, I was racked with guilt at the utter selfishness of my decision to reject their request to come over.  I was sobbing for my home, for my soul, and for their souls.  I was angry that God had put these two seemingly irreconcilable choices before me.  Kai, my twenty-one-year-old son (who, by the way, is a biology major and has offered to mix up some DDT for me, but I told him that I appreciate the offer, but orange is not his color) and Cami, my daughter, reminded me at the lunch table that day, that when I am weak, He is strong (II Corinthians 12:9-10).  At that moment, I knew I was a blessed woman -- to have my children speaking truth to me, allowing me to be weak, and pointing me to Christ!  God's power is made perfect in weakness!  The next day I had another epiphany:  in my attempts to be like Christ, I was trying to be God.  My role in Q's and M's lives is not to be their savior.  It's to point them to Jesus, their only savior.  I'll never be Jesus even though I want to be like him.  If I could be him, he'd be human, not God. So, I'm continually asking myself if I'm pursuing my kingdom or God's, and I'm still struggling with my day-to-day choices in regards to Q and M, but I'm rejecting the debilitating pressure of trying to be THE rescuer.  I would love for you to pray for me about that.

Woke up this morning thinking about orange/cranberry chutney with pork tenderloin, something I had at a friend's home several years ago.  Why I woke up thinking about this succulent dish I don't know.  Most of the past 37 mornings I have woken up itching and thinking of bed bug tyrrany. So chutney is a glorious change, and I am giddy and grateful.  Last night I went to sleep thinking intermittently of The Iron Lady, a movie I was watching just before bed, and Psalm 103, my lifeline and a satisfying catalog of my benefits as God's child.  I memorized this Psalm twenty years ago in the midst of panic attacks and have fled to it innumerable times since.  Reading truths like "[He] forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, [he] redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion, [he] satisfies your mouth with good things [aah--chutney!] so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's";"he does not treat us as our sins deserve";"so great is his love toward those who fear him";"as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us" and "as a father pities his children so the Lord pities those who fear him" is like sipping hot cocoa by the fireside on a wintry night.  The words sink deep and warm into my mind and gush into my soul. They have rescued me from anxiety, despair, depression and insecurity.  God delivers me because He delights in me (Psalm 18)!
I wonder if Margaret Thatcher ever had bed bugs. Her meditating on Psalm 103 would probably have been precipitated by matters more important.
Today I will clean the study for an hour, check bedsheets for spots, check traps under bed legs for bugs, and do the daily load of laundry with hot water (and a color catcher sheet) then a high-heat dry for 80 minutes. Peter can move study furniture for me when he gets home from golfing with our youngest. (Please, dear, help me quench this violent need to attack every nook and cranny in our home with the vacuum cleaner.)  I put the ozone generator in the study on high for 90 minutes last night.  It's a small room so it got blasted with ozone.
This afternoon and evening will be fun.  Peter, our youngest son Keaton, and I have a little game competition spread over three nights going on.  Then we get to watch the Boston Celtics beat the Heat (hopefully).  It's a big night. Not all business and bed bugs.
On that note, sometimes I get overwhelmed when I think of ALL I should be doing to be rid of bed bugs.  Then I remember that God isn't asking me to do in one single day ALL that I should do.  He's only leading me to do what I can do now, today, and He's giving me the grace to do it now, today, and then to trust Him, the one who never slumbers or sleeps, to take care of the bugs.  (I already do that when I'm sleeping, right?)  When I look back at the past 38 days, I am astounded at the amount of work God's allowed me to do.  No wonder those internet stories were overwhelming to me.  My perspective when I read them ignored time and God!

Read Mark 9 with my son this morning.  It's a remarkable chapter of faith--something I really needed today, particularly after yesterday's discovery.  I am encouraged to cry out to Jesus with my desires, to believe in His promises and recognize and confess my tendency toward unbelief (in my case, my tendency to be frantic and grasp for control, forgetting that bed bugs too are part of His design for my life right now) (see Mark 9:24).  Can I claim Mark 9:25 ("I command you, come out . . .and never enter . . again") for my problem?!  I am emboldened to increase my faith by taking my burdens to God in prayer and fasting (9:29). And I am determined not to let my peace be distracted by my schemes and efforts, but to look only to Jesus for my peace (9:7-8).
Last night I vacuumed the entire downstairs area, getting into baseboard cracks and going over the couches and chairs really well with the knife edge of my vacuum cleaner.  I couldn't scour the study as well as I wanted since I have trouble moving the large bookshelf and desk in there. I'm a total lifting wimp.
A friend of mine lent me an ozone generator, a machine that takes the oxygen in a room and turns it into ozone, to try to suffocate any remaining bed bugs.  So that went into the study to do its magic for an hour.  I don't know if it will work since I can't make the room completely airtight, but I'm trying everything within reason these days.  "Within reason"  is a pretty broad category.  It includes everything except burning my house down.  And who knows when that will become reasonable.
May 1, 2012, I began reading on the internet various horror stories and non-solutions to bed bugs.  I spent a lot of time crying and calling my husband Peter while he was at work.  May 3, 2012, Peter and I agreed that I would not read about bed bugs on the internet.  This has been a difficult promise to keep, but I have done it thus far and am glad because the fodder I got for panic within the first three days of May has been well enough to keep my mind swirling for years.  I read (sometime between May 1 and May 3) that New York City is the most bed bug infested city in America.  No more visiting that fine city for me--at least until the government lifts its ban on DDT or some amazing scientist discovers an instant cure for bed bugs!  Who would ever want to live there?  I wonder if Tim Tebow's place is infested.  Easy solution for Tim Tebow:  burn your house down.
OK. Time for me to do something with my son. (My three oldest are working at our church's camp this week--yes!  we cooked their backpacks and high-heated their clothes before they left).  I am committed not to allow bed bugs to rule my life.  I take an hour or so each day to do what I can to get rid of them.  But then I must give myself to what is much more important than a sterile house.

The adventure continues. . .

Today is Day 36 of my bed bug adventure. Day 1 was May 1, 2012.  I'm so glad it all began on a First.  (January First would have been better--and I think Monk would agree--but May First will have to do.)  It is only now, June 5, that I have had the time, energy, and stomach to detail my story.  May was a long month.  My life has been a whirlwind--researching, crying, bagging, vacuuming, calling (the exterminators), washing, more crying, baking (items that cannot go in the dryer), gagging.  Then go through the routine again.
Through it all, God has been with me.  He is my only hope to get through this.
Just now, after 36 days of washing, vacuuming, pest control treatments, and numerous highs and lows, my son comes to me with a dead bug on a board game from a room that had been "safe."
"I think this is a bed bug, Mom."
 I think to myself, "No, I think we're done with those--and there're certainly not any bugs in the study."
I look. It's a bed bug.  Dead, thank you very much, but still a bed bug.  How on earth did he get in the study?!!
My confidence that this trial is near an end plummets.  Time to scratch.  Time to vacuum.  Time to turn my confidence away from the mirage of a bugless house to the Lord of the Bed Bugs, who ordained this momentary trial for my good and His glory, who made and knows every bed bug on this earth, who sent his only son Jesus to earth to join humankind and rescue me from sin and death, who claims me as his child and delights in me.  Time to rejoice and be grateful.  Time to go.