O is for Outhouses ~ by Michelle Strutzenberger

 

Acrylic painting by Maria Strutzenberger 2023

As a daughter of missionary parents in Central America, I developed a far more intimate acquaintance with outhouses than I would have liked. Outhouses were the only mode of plumbing at our home, at school, the store, church, clinic, and the homes of friends and other family members.

So, I had to use one every single day.

For me, this was normal life.

But just because something has become “normal” in our lives, does mean we have to pretend it is good.

I sure did not enjoy my outhouse experiences.

Were they adventuresome?

Yes!

On every trip to one such tiny building, I would check for snakes, tarantulas, and any other creepy creatures lurking in the shadows. This was in Central America, remember.

At night, I would try to remember a flashlight. But sometimes one just wasn’t handy, and then the trip was extra fast and full of thrills as I hoped and prayed that this wouldn’t be my last visit to the toilet.

As a very young child, I constantly worried about falling through the hole into the horrible pile of mess below.

When we moved back to Canada when I was a preteen, I never for one moment missed those outhouses.

I have fond memories of the adventure and thrill they brought to my life with their dangers and grossness.

But I don’t wish to go back to them.

In this life, we have some “outhouses” that have become normal for us – death, pain, suffering, loss, separation, loneliness, emotional struggles. This list goes on.

But just because these experiences are "normal," we do not need to pretend they are good in and of themselves.

As a young adult Christian, I took verses like “Count it all joy when you face trials…,” found in James 1, and wove a twisted view that I needed to put on a mask with myself, God, and others when it came to my suffering. I felt I needed to pretend I wasn’t hurting and didn’t hate my pain.

With more experience and study of Scripture, I slowly untwisted that subtle lie. Of course, it is not the pain and sorrow we are called to celebrate. Instead, we can jump for joy and be glad because of the powerful and amazing work of Jesus in that trouble.

The following truths have become especially real and meaningful to me over the years as I’ve struggled through various trials. I understand now that I can be full of great glee and yell yippee, not because I’m having a hard time, because I know these truths are true:

1.         God is close to us in our suffering (Psalm 34:18).

2.         He helps us through it (2 Corinthians 12:9).

3.         He does not give us more than we can bear (1 Corinthians 10:13).

4.         He works it out for our good as we trust Him (Romans 8:28).

5.         The suffering has an end (1 Peter 5:10).

6.         Someday, all suffering will be permanently finished (Revelation 21:4). Hallelujah.

In my years since living in Central America, I’ve encountered a few nicer outhouses than the ones I used as a child. Some sport fresh paint, pretty curtains, scented candles, and even plastic toilet seats. But no matter how much is done to “enhance” their appearance and smell, I will never ever be able to view them as anything but stinky, yucky containers of waste.

I now intentionally try to be honest about my pain and suffering. When I hurt, I talk to God about how much it hurts, how I don’t like it, and how I want it to end. I also have some close friends that I can trust to remove my mask with. In both cases, I first need to be honest with myself.

But realness alone is not enough, of course. I allow myself to be honest, but I quickly follow that with an intentional “note-to-self” about the truths Jesus has given us.

Similarly, when I write as a Christian, I hope to always be real, both about the awfulness of the struggle, and how Jesus helps me in that struggle.

I like the Psalmist David’s approach to his trouble, as shown in the following verse: First, he names the state of his spirit. He doesn’t sugarcoat how he is feeling. He is real. But then he intentionally adds some spirit-boosting self-talk, followed by a deliberate choice to praise God even in his depressed state. Psalm 42:11 “Why are you so downcast, o my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise Him, my Saviour and My God” (NIV). 

Outhouses may be necessary, but they simply are not -- and will never be -- the Taj Mahal.

Michelle and her family enjoy hiking mountains and trails together. She is currently writing a series under her maiden Mennonite name, Michelle Teigrob. The series is called, What Growing Up in a Mennonite Family of 10 Taught Me About Survival. To receive the bi-weekly tips, visit this link and subscribe.