Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Ants, ants, ants.

The Ant Attack of 2013 has officially been launched on the Thomas kitchen.

What is it about those stupid little bugs that just irks every bit of my being?

Watching that rolling black line trudge down my kitchen wall and into every crevice of my kitchen shakes my cleaning confidence to its innermost layer.  As I watch those little insects crawl down the wall, over the stove, into three of five cabinets in our little kitchen space acting so nonchalant, I bristle and begin my Raid-fueled counter strike.

That little black line says more to my conscious and my self-confidence than it's summertime and the eatin's fine. It makes implications (to my cleaning obsessed mind) about my cleanliness -or lack thereof. The moment I wake to find a parade of sugar seeking pismires, the internal fight begins.

Why can't I just keep the cabinets all perfect and pretty and not-paradise-to-an-entire-hill-of-ants? 

What the hell is the honey lid dripping for? And how was I so unaware of it until now? 

Who's cabinets ARE these? I don't recognize half of this unorganized shit! 

This year's ant attack isn't simply an annual reminder to overhaul all those nooks and crannies. It's a divine message begging me to reflect on the year this far. That Oregon Trail of ants remind me that I'm not in control of the kitchen cabinets, and even more so, out of control of my own sin-filled life cabinets.

They remind me how life brings clutter and circumstance, I gather, gather, gather it. Hoard it, need it, cling to it. Then in a single God-moment, my soul recognizes its reflection on our wood cabinets' face and the thunderous emotional state erupts within me. I seethe with frustration while I spray, spray, spray and wipe their little peppery dead bodies away. Frustration that initially aims at those little black bugs, but quickly melts into a deeper-rooted irritation with myself.

It begins with Raid and paper towels as I grumble about the invasion of insects. It transforms into a reflection on the little black ant trail that is sin in my life. Oh, God, how you must feel. Some bug spray and a paper towel won't do a damn thing for me. My flesh recognizes some sweet sinfulness and begins its pursuit. You attempt to curb my enthusiasm to save me from the impending disaster, but I ignore it -stubborn, thick-headed, and sure in my ways. You let me go, you give me room, and I overdo it, exhaust myself, come crawling back to you.

You cleanse my soul far more thoroughly than Raid does my kitchen. You clean up the debris with more care than my Bounty towels. And, yet, I am too consumed by the irresponsibility of my ignorance to be grateful for your grace. How do you stand it, Lord?

Some words from Him: 
"Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness."
-Lamentations 3:22-23

Really practically though, how in the hell do you get rid of those buggers?!?
We've tried Windex, Raid, ant traps... What's your [preferrably homemade] secret? 

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