Cicadas. A good analogy.

Here’s what I hate: Cicadas!!!!

First, it was the mere anticipation of these silly not-so-little bugs. NOW, we are living the Cicada invasion in full force. I’ve been trying all week to find something different to blog about since these stupid creatures have been mentioned in the last three posts. You are probably just as done with them as I am. BUT, since I can’t get away from them, neither can you.

Buzzing. Constant buzzing and screeching is a big part of this cicada infestation. At first, it was the lovely white-noise type hum that you get from the refined southern cicadas that live in the trees and politely keep their distance and sing you to sleep all summer in Houston. But these Nashville bugs are downright screaming at us. The buzzing drowns out the bird’s songs in the mornings. They also give you a nice loud warning when they come buzzing towards your head. It sometimes sounds like flying rattle snakes.

They’re everywhere! Scattered on my deck, coating every leaf and tree branch, lining the door frames, peppering the sky as they whiz from tree to tree—there is truly no escaping them. Plus, these dudes don’t really know how to fly—they are clumsy and therefore constantly bouncing off of people and things like they are drunk or something.

I wish they had some sort of graceful, predictable flight pattern, but instead they just flap and scream and hope they bump into a lady Cicada with which to mate. After all, that’s the point of all this racket: signals to attract and breed and make little Cicada babies to annoy us again in another thirteen years.

Much like off-season weather like a “cold snap” in July or a warm day in December, this Cicada stuff is all anyone is talking about around town. (Especially if I bring it up.) My friend Brian was telling me that while he’s not scared of bugs, he’s pretty annoyed by these. He had to mow his lawn last night with one hand on the mower and the other one swatting at the Cicadas which were swarming him. Brian continued, “they have those red eyes that stare at you and I’m like: ‘no, I am not going to mate with you!’” he joked.

But it’s not a joke. These hideous, giant bugs are here in abundance for at least 2 or 3 more weeks. I have no idea how I will survive it…They are already majorly affecting my life and by “affecting” I mean controlling. “How?” you ask. Let me count the ways:

#1—it’s all I could think/write about for two weeks before they even arrived.

#2—My heart-rate went through the roof on my jog three weeks ago when I saw the first signs of their emergence. (I have not jogged outside since then.)

#3—I’ve spent valuable time looking for info about them on the internet and even “Liked” a Cicada Facebook page so I could see videos of Cicadas around Nashville.

#4—I changed earrings today because I thought that the dangly leaf looking ones I had on might resemble a Cicada's wings and therefore attract one to mate with my earring.

#5—I won’t get out of my car when I pick-up my daughter from school—instead I make her run to the car and get in quickly so as not to let any into the car while I sit there and scream every time one hits the wind shield.

#6—I have a whole routine when pulling in the garage: open door, pull in quickly, turn off car, close garage door, sit still and listen to see if any got into the garage. We exit the car if the coast is clear.

#7—I send my braver-than-me 8 year old daughter out to get the mail.

#8—If I happen to be outside for some strange reason and one does come to attack me (or try to mate with me) I scream like someone has just pulled a gun on me. I then do a ridiculous dance which involves a sort of kick-march in place combined with violent head shaking and flailing arms.

#9—I am constantly looking out the windows and shuttering as I watch them on the branches of my trees.

#10—I think about them way too much (and write about them way too much).

You see, the Cicada’s are controlling my clothing choices, my comings and goings, and even my thoughts! I’ll probably be put in an asylum by the time this insect phenomenon is over. Don’t you feel sorry for me? I feel sorry for me—not because of this ridiculous bug invasion, but because it’s affected me so drastically.

Here’s what I love: a good analogy.

Then I realized that I can demonize these little bugs even further by comparing them to sin… It’s an interesting analogy to consider.

First, there were reports that Cicadas were out there—that they were coming—just like we hear about the possibility and problem of sin. But, we think it won’t happen to us or that it won’t be that bad…

But, like the Cicadas wake after lying dormant, something can tempt us and awaken a sin nature that we like to pretend isn’t there. We think it will be small—something we can handle ourselves. But, when we give that temptation an extra look, it reels us in. Our heart-rate quickens and we feel “alive.” We begin to spend valuable time on our sin. It begins to affect our clothing choices—something sexy for the sin of infidelity, something larger for the sin of gluttony, something “proper” for the sin of pride. Soon, it is affecting all of our comings and goings. We send our braver-than-us friends to the throne to pray for us instead of repenting and going ourselves. That’s when our care for our pet sin turns to fear. We look at it and shutter.

I know this is the way it works because I’ve experienced the claws of sin. Our Enemy is tricky and he will do anything to capture our thoughts and actions—like awake something we didn’t even know was asleep inside us. When it first crawls to the surface like a little bug, we think: “I can easily flick this away myself…if I want to.” But, before we know it, the bug has multiplied and it becomes a screaming, swarming controller of our lives. Real life Cicadas may just die out on their own (I’ll let you know) leaving their carcases for us to clean up. But, it doesn’t work that way with our coddled sins. They won't just die off. I found there is only one way to eradicate pet sins. Lay, run, fix. Lay aside the sin (sometimes this has to be done moment by moment). Run.—get back to the right path and start sprinting. Fix your eyes on Jesus. He’s the author of our faith and He will perfect faith in us. How? Ask Him for help.

I asked for discipline because I was doing such a crappy job of kicking my new pet sin out of my life. The discipline which came is impossible to write about. It was swift, painful, and very real. And it saved me. It saved me from a screeching, controlling sin that would have completely destroyed my life as well as the lives of others.

Cicadas are just a periodic nuisance which will die off naturally and leave me alone. I'll be able to walk outside without constant anxiety plaguing me. We'll be able to grill out on the deck in peace. (I can hardly wait for that day!) But, sin has to be confessed and kicked out of our lives before it takes over. I am so thankful there is a way to do this and be freed to walk in peace once more.

2 Peter 1:3-10