Sure, 'Bugs' is a cute word to say but only when the second name is Bunny. Otherwise, if you’re an insect who provides sustenance to passing creatures outside, that’s fine, but you are never welcome in my humble abode or even where I’m staying in a temporary room with a fancy plastic entry key.
Invasion of La Cucaracha is one war humans cannot seem to win. Supposedly, even if something nuclear were to lay waste to the whole world, these crafty bugs would survive just fine, except possibly becoming a funny shade of green and being stronger and sneakier than ever.
But what would be the point of survival if there’s no one to hunt them for dinner or for them to pester? This puzzle is a mirror of how evil works. It’s here. It won’t go away, and no matter how much we stomp our collective feet, it refuses to be permanently evicted or pay its bill but will keep demanding room service until the end when its reign is over.
Closer to my immediate home front, maybe it’s just my technique, but I can’t seem to find a way to make a roach check into those little cardboard motels. In times past, I’ve tried to use “inns-for-insects” boxes in hopes that at least one creepy-crawly would be interested enough to step into the lobby and fall prey to the trap. Nope. No takers.
How do they know the secret about never checking out? Maybe they watch those pest eradication commercials from a hidden murky place under my sink? It’s one of those you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink things.
I can’t figure out what’s wrong with my toxic motel plan that keeps those dirty, diseasespreading guests from even being curious. After all, the tiny space is free. Maybe a garish neon sign would propel them inside, or I could offer delicious continental breakfast crumbs. Recently, I learned how much they hate the aroma of peppermint or lavender which might be a simpler way to post a no-vacancy sign in my personal space.
The thing roaches seem instinctively to sense that humans often miss is how the nice-looking outside of something can be harboring entrapment problems on the inside. I’ve seen them crawl around on top of the innocentlooking surprise waiting to welcome them and then promptly scurry off to be concealed in the dark.
Several years ago, there was an exposé program on television highlighting different lodging places with a lot of unbelievable things to hide. On the surface, when entering the rooms of each of the motels or hotels, everything looked fine, even clean. Once the professional crew went to work with special lights and devices to showcase reality, things changed in disgusting ways!
Telephones and TV controls were rife with bacteria. Bodily fluids of all kinds were found on nearly everything, some even dishonoring the Bibles in bedside table drawers. Now we are seeing alerts warning us also to be careful where luggage lands, even to set it in the bathtub for a bit— something about bedbugs or lice.
I don’t travel overnight anymore, but if it becomes necessary, once again I will pack a box or two of strong antibacterial wipes (or maybe just sleep in the car).
In the end, like roaches who refuse to enter the little insect motel because something just isn’t quite right to them, it might behoove people to be equally alert before stepping into any dubious thing that looks good, sounds good, maybe even smells acceptable but sadly lacks any “disinfecting knowledge.”
A troubling decision, without sound spiritual investigation that’s filled with prayer and the Lord’s assurance, can often lead to checking into a one-star situation falsely advertised as a five. The price is often too high and there could be lots of unexpected things to “bug” us because we were unable to see past the spiffy packaging.
Just consider this another metaphorical musing from an old, experienced life traveler who can almost see the end of the road and had to learn the hard way when more than one promised dream accommodation turned out to be seriously misleading.
It may feel a bit foolish to act dumber than a silly cockroach, but it feels wonderful that God forgives our foolishness and has the perfect place waiting—and that awesome eternal reservation is clean, delightful, and pre-paid!
Ecclesiastes 2:13 (NLT) I thought, “Wisdom is better than foolishness, just as light is better than darkness.”