I couldn’t smell a thing.

 

But Kaci was adamant there was a pungent smell coming from the ceiling vent in our dining room.

 

I swear her nose is more sensitive to smell than dogs! 

 

I ignored Kaci’s concerns for a few days, but by Friday evening – the smell was really starting to bother Kaci and her sensitive nostrils. 

 

So I finally gave in…

 

“Alright, we will walk to Bunnings tomorrow and I’ll get one of those ‘sperm suits’ and climb up in the roof to check it out.” 

 

Now, I’m not much of a ‘tradie’ – but I have been in a lot of dirty and dark confined spaces when I was working at the steelworks. 

 

So I suited up.

 

And proceeded to climb up the step-ladder into the manhole of the roof.

What a dark, dusty, horrible space it was.

 

How do people do this for a living?

 

The ducted air conditioning pipes made it challenging to navigate through the already claustrophobic space. 

 

I awkwardly crawled over and under beams and pipes to the location where the smell was coming from.

 

For the first time I could smell what Kaci’s nostrils had been smelling all week! 

 

It smelt like death.

 

Something had definitely been living up here rent-free…

 

I noticed little ‘droppings’ around the area.

 

But where was this smelly creature?

 

I searched everywhere with my torch, but this beast could not be seen. I started to get frustrated. Being a fairly big guy in an awkward space is only tolerable for so long you know…

 

But I was determined not to come down from that roof empty-handed. 

 

Finally, 

 

Kaci guided me to the location she thought the culprit could be. 

 

I cautiously pulled up the air conditioning tube, 

And there it was… 

 

 

But I’d forgotten to bring a bag up with me to dispose of this deceased creature…

 

 

So I instructed Kaci to wrap a tennis ball in a ‘doggy bag’ and throw it to me through the manhole. She insisted on including a bottle of ‘essential oils’ in there for the smell.

 

Kaci launched the ball to me.

 

But of course it hit a beam and bounced right back in her direction – landing nowhere near where I was…

 

Arghhhhhh!

 

I unwillingly crawled back to fetch the ball and bag, before turning around to crawl back to the crime scene.

 

I bagged up the dead rat in the ‘doggy bag’ and dosed the scene with the essential oils for good measure. Then for the last time I proceeded to awkwardly crawl back out the dark and dusty roof space.

 

As I approached the manhole with the dead rat in the bag, I felt like an action hero.

 

It’s fair to say Kaci was impressed.

 

 

Because this story has a powerful lesson.  

 

You may appear successful to the outside world. You may appear like you have your sh*t together. You may wear a mask to hide your flaws. 

 

But hiding in your dark and dusty roof where no one else can see is a dead rat. 

 

The dead rat represents something about yourself you don’t want anyone to find out about.

 

You’ve hidden this dead rat up in the roof for years.

 

Not thinking it’s a big deal to hide.

 

But that dead rat has slowly been rotting away and staining your character and your soul. 

 

Leading to a life of lies and self-sabotage instead of a life of truth and freedom.  

 

There’s only one way to fix this problem. 

 

 

This is a problem you can’t outsource to pest control.

 

This is something you must go through yourself. 

 

It’s emotional. It’s confronting. It’s painful.

 

But I will tell you one thing, 

 

The pain of hiding your dead rat in the ceiling is more painful than removing it. 

 

 

You can set yourself free with one moment of courage. 

So let me ask you this,