Many years ago my mother sent over money for Christmas presents for our children.  Against my better judgement and, swayed by a 5–part chorus of ‘Please Mummy’, we purchased The Mouse Trap game.  An awful sense of foreboding came over me as we took our purchase home. On Christmas Day, frenzied little pudgy fingers opened the big box! The game came with masses of small pieces and takes the combined skills of a brain surgeon and architect to put it together.  Missing parts could be avoided only with meticulous surveillance by Mummy, the Mousetrap Monitor!  The game was a disaster for me.  I had to watch every move, hover over every roll of the dice, and supervise every pack up expecting at any time the little white ball would be lost or the red basket snapped. Surely the blue loop-the-loop rigging wouldn’t last more than a few months.   I was only satisfied when all pieces were packed up and the box neatly tucked away. 

 I should have listened to my gut and, instead, bought a new Atlas, a badminton set or a popcorn maker.  

 About 12 months went by. Pieces were lost. The game rarely left the cupboard that had became a graveyard for many games.  In January, our annual council recycling drive was upon us and in a moment of Manic Mean Mummy, I decided to throw it on the junk pile.  I loved that moment.  I felt so powerful. I don’t remember anyone complaining too much.  We all knew it was time for it to go.

  I think of other things now lurking in my life that ought to be removed.  Items that are high maintenance and serve only little or fleeting purpose.

I am reminded this week that I am a citizen of heaven already.  I received my visa early.  Citizens of heaven should be spending their lives maintaining the life-giving things. Maintaining friendships and fighting for justice. Promoting kindness and mercy. Maintaining health and care for others. I don’t want to spend my life maintaining the trap.