Christmas and the holidays at our house were probably the best they have ever been. There was mostly getting along and we generally enjoyed being with each other. I shouldn’t have been surprised because I had a lot of people praying that this time would be filled with blessings at peace, that we would enjoy our last few weeks together as a family before I leave for the Race.
My parents had gone to bed and my sister and I were indulging our Once Upon A Time addiction, most of the way through our fourth, yes fourth, episode of season 3 that night (It was 1:50am). For sometime we kept hearing this scratching sound and I kept trying to convince Emma that there was something in the house. She assured me that it was just a squirrel out on the porch. As we are watching the last 15 minutes of our show, suddenly a dark shadow comes into view and Emma jumps up yelling “It’s in the house!” as blankets and remotes and iPhones go a-flying. I shrieked that it was a bat as we both ran toward our parents room. Emma slammed into the door as she tried to get it open and I shut myself in the guest bathroom, laughing and doing the little freakout dance you do when you are scared silly. Emma and I are whisper shouting at each other through the doors. She has locked mom and dad’s door and is trying to get them to wake up, but they are confused as to what in the world is going on. For the first 10 minutes they were angry with us, thinking we had let a bat in. (Is that even possible? Like “Hello Mr. Bat, fly in the house.”)
I managed to run to the light switch and get a light on in our den where the bat was flying in circle around the ceiling fan. Every time I opened the door I would hold up the bathroom hand towel to defend myself in case the bat flew at the door. After about 5 more minutes I slipped into the parents room and tried to contain my laughter as poor sweet Emma had crawled out the window onto the back porch that connects to the den and was attempting to dig up the courage to open the adjoining door. She was cemented in place, bawling and I climbed out the window like a good big sister and sent her back inside. I got the doors open and ran back, climbing through the window. I went and looked in the living room and the rest of the downstairs and thought we were bat free. As I was walking around (with a broom now in my hand to swat the bat if he tried to visit me) I noticed him hanging from the blinds on the staircase up to the second floor.
I ran back into mom and dad’s room and starting giving orders for a pillow case and a sweatshirt, in case he tried to bite me. I went back out while everyone else hid in the bedroom. I should say, dad was not hiding – he recently had foot surgery and would not have been able to chase a bat around the house. Anyway, he told me later that he was laying in bed when I left with the pillow case and could hear me working through my fear of getting closer to the bat (with squeals and grunts) until I finally was within 4 inches of the creature. As I raised the pillowcase to trip the little bat, he flew into the edge of the pillow case and up and away from me. I shrieked because what else do you do when you are worried a bat is flying at you and then ran after him to see if he flew out the door. He did not. At this point we had been trying to get him out for 20 minutes. I attempted for a while to knock him with the broom but little bat man landed and hung from the ceiling, which is a good 15 feet high and i couldn’t reach him to swat him down with the broom.
Dad yelled what I had been thinking “Go get the Bebe gun.” I will be completely honest here. I love guns. I love to go shooting rifles and pistols at the range with my retired Navy friends. But I have never shot and killed something. Ever. I can talk a good game like I’m all tough. I have even zinged a few squirrels who annoyed me by destroying my flower beds. But shooting something and having it die in front of me, not what I planned on doing the night of Christmas. But I also knew the bat could not stay. I ran down the stairs and loaded up some Bebes. I prayed and asked Jesus to make the bat fly away but he did not move. The door had been open so long the house was freezing and my toes were numb. I took my aim and got close enough, startling the little bat and he started flying around the room again. I took bat to swatting and jumping with the broom to get him to fly out the open door but he kept landing on the ceiling. I took a few more shots at him before finally hitting him. I knew because he made this horrible shrieking sound and fell to the floor like a toy helicopter crashing out of the sky. I threw the pillow case over it cause I didn’t want to touch it and then drug/swept him out of the house and slammed the door shut. I then grabbed my dad who was cheering me on for defending the house from the bat and cried with sadness and relief that this whole ordeal was over.
It was now 3am and we were boarding up the fireplace, with mom saying “Ok, it’s time to move.” The whole thing, although stressful at the time, is absolutely hilarious to tell. And that’s why I had to share it with my readers! Because although killing the bat and getting it out of the house was a difficult task, I held it together and dealt with the stressful situation, taking care of my family and overcoming my fear because I had to. And now we can laugh about it and I feel good about myself because I was brave and swallowed my fear and pushed through. It took some convincing but I managed to do what had to be done. And I am not afraid of handling a crisis now on the race. Lord willing we don’t have any but I know that I thrive in situations where there are people depending on me to deal with something. I can get the job done. I’ve now tackled snakes and bats in the house. I’m ready for whatever weird looking creatures the Philippines can throw at me.
As I prepare to leave tomorrow, YES TOMORROW, I have been working through so many emotions. Fear is definitely one of them. Fear of all this anticipation leading up to the race and now it being here and what if it isn’t what I thought? Or what if it is? Or what if it’s more? Fear of leaving my family for so long. These same fears I had a month ago still trying to press in. But I now have a tangible example of when I was afraid (of getting bitten by the bat and getting rabies or ebola (not really but bats do carry it and it crossed my mind)) and I pushed through the fear because I had a job to do. And when I’m afraid on the field whether of a monkey trying to steal my food or of something that isn’t tangible, I know that with Jesus, I can face my fear head on and press through. Because Jesus is way better than a pillow case and a Bebe gun.
