Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Last night, ants on the bathroom floor again. Crawling into bed, ants on my nightstand. This morning, ants on the breakfast table. I used to like ants. No more.
I realized that my attitudes had shifted towards ants, when directly after meditating this morning, I began flicking their little thoraxes against our breakfast table. It's glass, and it was gross, but I want them dead. Even when I am at most peaceful with the world around me, ants have got to go.
Something in the verse above reminded me of my ant problem. As ants have been invading my dwelling, I'm thinking, "Maybe we should I move into a tent" because, if I read the text carefully, "no plague (shall) come near (my) tent" (stupid joke alert applause please).
But if I'm honest this morning, I've got bigger fish to fry than ants, and ants aren't fish. I've got brokenness and evil invading my life and my fear is, it will be a plague to my dwelling and those I love.
I hate sin. Probably more than I hate ants. The problem is sin still grips me, entices me and invites me to rest awhile and taste of it's fruit. When I do listen to sin, and pursue it, I always find myself in the same place - trying to flick the "sin ants" from my house one by one. I'm just trying to put out fires.
Now, what would be really nice would be if there was someone out there that new how to get to the sin ants' nest. Someone that could seek out and destroy sin ants at their source.
Well what do you know? As Christians we have this source in God, and though his methods and timing are totally unlike my own, I bet they are more effective. So on days like today, I need to call the ultimate exterminator-terminator. Plus while he's dealing with my sin problem, maybe he'll rid my small world of ants.
I hate ants. And I'm pretty sure the story about Solomon and the ants is a lie.