So…if you read my last blog, you may have choked on the first sentence.      

I know how I think. 

And when I read “we arrived at the resort/hotel”...  I think sandy beaches and five star accommodations.  I don’t think mission trip. And you might be the same way. 

So let me just clarify something.  This isn’t the kind of resort where you get unlimited fluffy towels, soap, and toilet paper. But to give you the best picture, I’ll just start by telling you what happened after we said said our goodbyes to the kids Sunday night and worked our way back to our rooms.  Mind you, I have a very nice room and it does overlook a large pond/small lake and if I had time, it might be fun to sit out on the porch and enjoy the view. 

Mind you, it is also true that about 10:30 pm when I and a few others had finished repacking bags for the next day and were ready to call it a night, I was very grateful to see Wade Jackson show up with rat traps. 

Even though I had slept hard the night before, the one thing I remembered is the russle of tiny bodies in various locations around my room. 

The Jackson’s had warned us not to keep food out and they did NOT have to tell me twice. But if I was in for I repeat appearance of the furry little monsters, I was not opposed to it being their last. 

Wade had no sooner set the traps and headed for the door than we heard one snap. Hmm…probably wasn’t set quite right. I figured. 

It was me that was wrong. 

One down, an undefined number to go. 

With that boost of confidence that we were winning the rat war, I clicked off the light, laid my tired self in bed, and listened to the almost immediate scampering of my furry friends. I thanked God for teenage boys who are willing to set rat traps and I drifted to sleep. 

It was not long later when I was awakened by a snap! followed by a thump, thump, thump, thump…as that particular creature refused to give in to the jaws of death. I laid still, not about to intervene unless absolutely necessary. Things were eventually quiet and I fell back asleep believing that perhaps his friends would wise up and just go away. 

It was about 1:30 when I heard the other Snap! followed by its own thumping. 

Score: Wade 3, Rats…?  I didn’t know. 

That was all of the traps however. It would be quiet the rest on the night. 

Not so much. It was like their stories had been published in the obits and their friends came to pay their respects or something. I kept hearing rustling, scampering, gnawing…I even turned on the light at one point but the only rats I saw were the two with their heads on the chopping blocks. 

Sleep still evaded me.  It was the ones under my bed that really kept me on edge. At one point, I was sure I felt one creeping along the end of my bed and while I didn’t scream, I did start kicking wildly–listening intently for the sound of a rat flying across the room before thumping on to the floor. But it never came. It was just me and the realization that that particular critter was in my head and not in my bed. 


 They were not all in my head and Wade can testify to that.  Because when he got there the next morning to empty the traps, at least one of them had already been disposed of by his ex-friends. They left just enough behind to make his prior existence undeniable. We’ll leave it at that. 

So, I’m not complaining. I’m just explaining.  We have it great and we are honored to be here. But if you hear the terms “resort” and “hotel,” don’t think about white sand and five star accommodations. Think about me getting two hours of sleep.   

And definitely not about fluffy towels, soap, or unlimited toilet paper. 

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