The constant chirrup was driving us crazy, especially at night when in the hush of darkness it was louder than ever and seemed to be coming from every corner of our bedroom. "That darn critter! I'm gonna catch it if it's the last thing I do." My husband was at his wit's end. We had spent sleepless nights with flashlights trying to trace the sound. He had crawled under the house by day to see if some animal was nesting there.
"This is it. If I don't catch it tonight, in the morning I'm calling the exterminators!" He was adamant, and although I winched at the cost of exterminators, I didn't blame him: Our rest had been disturbed for too many nights. He went around with a rolled up newspaper as we played a game of "Hot and Cold."
"Cold," I said as he moved away from where I thought the sounds were coming from. "Warm, warmer," and then, "Hot!" as we tried locating the spot.
"You got it!" I said. "Right where you are."
John stopped, motionless in the middle of the room. He looked down and lifted the rug. Nothing there. Then he looked up. He was standing right under our smoke alarm. He chuckled, then doubled over in laughter. "We've been worried sick over nothing! We've been stalking a smoke alarm that is sounding off the need for a new battery!" With a twist of his wrist he disconnected it, and took it to the kitchen to change the battery. That night we slept soundly.
We tend to worry, fret and stew over problems that, when they're wrestled down, usually have a pretty simple solution. Now John and I remind each other: Chirrup, chirrup, chirrup!
HELP ME TO REMEMBER, LORD
THAT PROBLEMS ARE REALLY
JUST SOLUTIONS IN DISGUISE.