Exterminate Me

I was just sitting here reading some of my favorite blogs and I felt a little tickle at my neck. I reached up and realized there was something there and immediately went into the panic brush off, in case it might be a spider. Or worse, a tick. You know this brush off, the one where your whole body responds and you frantically swipe at yourself without looking at what monstrous thing it might be. This 'something' fell to my lap, but I still don't know what it was. I couldn't find it. I was looking everywhere to make sure I didn't remove the horrifying insect to another part of my body, only to have it crawl around and try to get back to my neck.

I got to thinking about how I'm like that when there's something in my life that is also quite icky and needs to go. Something sneaks up on me, tickles me and raises the hair on my neck. Then I quickly brush it away, thinking that will fix it. But it doesn't. My attempt at ridding myself of the problem, habit, negative attitude...well, my attempts at brushing them away don't work. I remove the sneaky thing to another location, a quieter corner of my mind, leaving it to wait in the wings for a moment when I'm not paying attention.

The truth is that I need an Exterminator, a very powerful one. But I keep forgetting to call Him. I try to ward off the creepy crawlies myself, hoping that if I ignore them long enough they might not multiply. But creepy crawlies always multiply if ignored, don't they? And they do more than creep me out. Some of them widdle away at me, stink me up and steal my food. The good things I know about myself get all chewed on until they don't resemble anything good.

It's not like you could really ignore a true infestation of bugs. I mean, once they're there and have been given the opportunity to reproduce in large quantities, there is no escaping them without some help. I've heard of people though, that simply get used to living with bugs. Let's take cockroaches for instance. You've seen those shows, people with garbage houses, infested with grime and bugs. And you think "HOW? How would you live like that? It's disgusting!" But I suppose it's just as anything else, as people we have a tendency to get comfortable in our misery. We judge people who live in squalor, but I for one can admit that I do the same, just not with the tangible.

I get comfortable with my anxiety, my unbelief, my fears and my doubts, until they are so normal that I don't recognize how much I'm itching and scratching. Then I'll come in contact with someone who seems to have so much more peace. To be more at ease and faithful. Then I'll suddenly remember that if I would call the Exterminator I would be much better off.

I've been realizing that a lot of this journey to God's love, to sit near His heart and really believe that He thinks I'm great, is largely difficult due to my fruitless attempts to get rid of my own junk. It's not like a human exterminator is scared of bugs. It's the same with God. He's not scared of my junk. He knows about it already and He's the only one that isn't completely intimidated by it. He can handle it. He's just that good.

Maybe it's as simple as if I really did have bugs all over my house. I would open the yellow pages and pick a name (I'm not big on research) and then I would call and say something like, "I have bugs, come right away and blast 'em." I need to do the same with the ugliness that creeps into my life, my mind, and my heart. "Exterminator, help. Please take it cause I know that you can, and I know I'll be much better off without it."