Pesky Mosquitoes (6/13/11)
You know the popular saying, “April showers bring May flowers”? Well, at Camp Shipshewana, I’m rather convinced that the rain brought more of a multitude of mosquitoes than fragrant flowers.
Walk outside for more than 37 seconds, and you are likely to have at least one thirsty friend attempting to leave her mark. While I know that our Father created everything-big and small, endearing and agitating-I can’t help but wonder about the benefits of mosquitoes. Perhaps God will enlighten me on the matter soon, but for now I’d like to explain a recent encounter I had with the mosquitoes inhabiting campfire woods.
I decided to go on a walk. Since the campfire site is one of my favorites at camp, it seemed like a logical place to go. One thing slipped my memory-the mosquitoes made their haven there. While I determined to stand my ground as I headed toward the campfire cross, I was no match for the critters.
The closer I got, the more the attacks seemed to fight for my attention. Although I’m ashamed to admit it, I let the pests win. Conceding, I cut my time in the woods short-hurrying to a place of security and an escape from those darn mosquitoes. Failing to put on bug spray was a detrimental decision, leaving me saying, “itchy itchy, hoy?”
This interpretation may be a bit dramatic, but it has a point. In my life, sin and Satan serve as mosquitoes. They try to literally suck some of the life out of me, and without protection and assistance, I’m a goner. Mosquitoes may carry disgusting diseases like malaria and West Niles, but a soul infected by the Enemy is a fate far worse.
I’m frustrated that I’m still susceptible. I hate the itchiness, so I scratch and scratch and scratch. Does it provide some temporary relief? Heck yes. Does it leave the bites bigger and nastier looking? You betcha. Sometimes my impatience and lack of self-control even lead to scars.
So, how do we stop this from happening? How do I squash the mosquitoes before they are even poised to attack? While I long for Spiderman-like reflexes, the fact is that I’m not quick enough or observant enough on my own to thwart the bites-especially when I’m foolish enough to go unprotected. Maybe I stop one or two and feel all proud, but I’m still left with 19 other wounds seeking to infect me. Bringing along friends who have our backs definitely helps. Maybe you only get 11 bites the next time.
I think the only way to really fix the problem is protection. The Bible serves as our bug spray, protecting us from many of the attacks (Ephesians 6:10-18).
Even if we bathed ourselves in bug spray, though, we’re still susceptible every time we go outdoors. Trying to love Jesus doesn’t equal a perfect, isolated, bite-free life. It just means that there is Someone bigger Who has the power to make it better if we let go and let Him. While that’s flipping hard to do, it’s encouraging that He’s better than any Benadryl or magic lotion that I can ever take.
So, I have a choice. I can live in isolation, in fear of the hurt that comes from the bites. I can go out unprepared and leave discouraged. Or, I can take the time; invest the resources; be prepared, and go out into the jungle. I can live faithfully, trusting that the One who loves me will work even in the attacks.
