Sunday, September 21, 2014

No Flies On You

I hate fly season.

I remember hating it even as a girl, watching Mama run around with that green, plastic, aluminum handled fly swatter, cursing under her breath - okay, often aloud - and wildly chasing the little hooligans around.
Did I mention we lived in rural Alabama in the blazing heat with a million degree humidity?
With no air conditioning?
And only a screen door?
With animals...

Ponies, cows, chickens, rabbits, cats and a stray dog or two depending on the year...
All hot, dirty and stinky...
All which attracted FLIES?!?!
Mmmmm...perhaps I haven't mentioned it and needed to get it off my chest.

Anyhow, to sum up:  I hate fly season.

I was in the bathroom this morning and there was yet another fly, buzz-buzz-buzzing around the room.
Have I yet articulated that it's THE BUZZING I hate the most!!!
Especially late at night when you're trying to drift off to sleep and you realize there's a little pest between the louvered blinds and the window, trapped but drowsy, only halfheartedly trying to escape.
Which means that the buzzing is relegated to every few seconds...then every few minutes...and soon you're holding your breath, waiting for the next "tzzz" to bombard you in the quiet of the night, becoming the HEART OF YOUR INSOMNIA!!!!!

Deep breath...

Back to the bathroom.
This little bugger was desperately flying toward the window over and over again, futilely trying to reach the outdoors.
(Fact checking confession:  I'll admit I don't care enough about the reproductive and mating patterns of flies to look up whether or not they are male or female."He?"  Do flies have genders? I'm assigning one regardless. I'm not researching on principle.)
I looked at him before slamming the door shut quickly behind me - so he couldn't escape and I didn't have to deal with him in another room - when I actually spoke aloud, 
"Well, you shouldn't have come in the house in the first place."
Yes, I was talking to a fly.
Madness, I tell you.

But as an hour wore on, "Well, you shouldn't have come in the house in the first place," slowly and methodically transformed itself into a different kind of conviction as I walked away and thought about that trapped creature.
It first became, "Well, you shouldn't have flown through that back door."
Then "You shouldn't have left the light."
Then "You, Cynthia, should listen to this and hear it from another perspective.  YOU should not have left the light and entered the dark of _________."
Yes, that "fill in the blank" became a shower of "should nots."

You should not have left the light and entered the dark of...

Leaving the light of
Hard work in His name...

And for a moment, my heart went out to that poor, misguided insect in my bathroom who thought - or maybe acted without thinking (do flies have a brain?!?) - that escaping the torturous heat of the outdoors would somehow make his short life more comfortable, more bearable.
(Okay, I'm assigning quite a bit of heart to this fly.  And, don't think it lasted long - I still wanted him OUT OF THE HOUSE!)

But as my great capacity for compassion encompassed this other living creature for a moment, I thought of all of those times my desire to escape the heat of a problem - or a challenge - trumped my desire to work through it...
My instinct for safety & self-preservation undermining His amazing plan for me. 
Then I found myself abandoned - by my own poor decisions - in the darkness, flying futilely toward the light, over and over, banging into a window of regret.
Oh, the regret.

Yes, I guess we can learn lessons from everything around us, all circumstances and His creatures both big and small.
My lesson from this little annoyance who continues to keep me awake at night, making me enter rooms on pins and needles?
That we all - 
Big or small...
Poor or rich...
Human or otherwise...
Get trapped from time to time.
And, above anything else, by the light of His grace...

Need to be set free.

{Thanks for reading.
Hope your day is fly-less and free...
Living in the Light!}

P.S.  I wrote this post before leaving for church on Sunday afternoon.
In the middle of the service, during a hymn, this guy alighted on my husband's worship aid.
He literally sat there the entire length of the song...
Who says God doesn't have a sense of humor?

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