Here’s what I hate: Bugs.
I’m not sure if I’ve told you about the bugs in our lovely
rental home. Have I? Well, we are surrounded.
First, there were the chiggers. Back in late June, I had my first (and
hopefully last) run-in with this tiny mystery insect, which, apparently,
burrows a hole into your skin and lays an egg or something. This irritates your skin (go figure)
and you itch and itch and itch for days.
The little buggers do this in not one, not two, not three, but about 87
locations on your legs and torso.
Chiggers are basically invisible, so it’s not like you can swat them
away. There is also no cure for
the itching which lasts for several weeks. You walk around looking (and feeling) like you have chickenpox. It is the least fun thing I did this
summer.
Moving on…
After we got over the shock of the chiggers in the yard (and
had them all murdered by pest-control), we were fairly happy in our bug-free
house. The interior had been
sprayed prior to our moving in, so there were no roaches or ants or any other
disagreeable house insect.
However, when we returned home after Labor Day weekend, we
found our house full of flies!
Huge flies were buzzing around everywhere! Oh, and also, our house smelled like dead animal. This was perhaps because there was a
dead squirrel in the crawl space under the house. Bill bravely got rid of the squirrel carcass, but the smell
remained. That is a whole other
story, which I will tell you later if you’d like to hear about our smelly
house. I’m sure you can’t
wait.
Anyway, the flies were here because of the rotting animal
and we swatted and killed and swept up flies for days. Good times.
Then, occasionally, there are these strange
grasshopper-spider-looking creatures, which jump really high at your face if
you try to kill them. Don’t
ask me how I know this. These
crazy bugs only show up once in a while, but I do NOT like them. I think they know this.
Also, there are gnats in the house sometimes, which I think
is related to the flies that were here for so long.
There are so many bugs around lately, that I’ve become a bit
jumpy. (I’m sure you can
imagine). In fact, just yesterday,
I held my breath and sat very still while I slapped what I thought was a gnat or
a flea resting on my leg. I lifted
my palm to find that it was a black freckle on my thigh. Brilliant. I have lots of freckles; so hopefully, I won’t be
spastically slapping myself from now on.
Anyway, this bug saga has almost zero spiritual application,
although, I am sure I could find some if I tried. I just wanted to share with you a bit of what has been going
on in the rental house lately.
Here’s what I love: random stories.
 |
| Is it a cat or a bunny? Who knows! But, it likes the house. |
In unrelated news, I did heard some pretty bizarre stories this
week—
One was about a woman who uses her cat to help her decide
where to live. If the cat acts
like she doesn’t like the house, then the lady won’t buy it. This is totally true, y’all. And, it’s completely ridiculous!!
The other story was about a man who wants his ashes
sprinkled inside a Bass Pro Shop after he dies. Seriously. I’m
not making this up. Really, you
idolize a retail store so much that you want a part of your dead body to stay
there?? (Never mind that the store
and the shoppers may not like the idea of coming across human ashes while they browse!)
Wow, I guess that people who choose
cremation want for their ashes to be sprinkled in a location, which they regard
as heaven-like. Some choose
majestic mountain peaks; others choose quiet ocean coves, and, apparently,
still others choose huge retail stores, which must have meant quite a lot to
them while they were still alive.
I was tempted to get all judgmental about these people’s
dying wishes. (I know, I’m so nice
like that.) But, I realized that
while I may not go so far as to request my remains being sprinkled inside
something after I die, I certainly do value silly things more than I
should. I prioritize coffee over
scripture, TV over friends, and restaurants over a little labor all the
time.
My thoughts are on cute household items and entertainment
and relaxation more than I care to admit.
I may not let my cat tell me where to live, but I let my own desires
(which are just as finicky), take the lead in huge life-decisions. Anyone who says, “follow your heart”
may as well say, “follow your cat.”
Where do these goofy stories leave me this week? On my knees at the feet of a forgiving
Savior who knows my desires, sees my judgmental heart, and helps guide my mind
and priorities back to what is truly valuable.
Oh Lord, I want to be
with you when I die—body and
soul. Thank you for loving me as I
am, but not leaving me in my sin infested state.
This is eternal life, that they may know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent. John 17:3
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