Killing Mosquitos

When they first start to show up I have such a vengeance for destroying them.  I want to ensure they are nowhere near my body, have no chance to take anything of mine.  Slowly, they wear me down.  Instead of seeking to obliterate their lives I somehow get to the point of being ok living with their presence in my life.  Instead of turning on the light and hunting every last mosquito down, I pull the sheet over my head and resign myself to hearing the incessant buzz until I blissfully fall asleep.  Last night I sat outside and the mosquitos showed up.  I noticed them around my face and dealt a number deathly blows to those settling on my legs and arms. It was only once I stood up that I realized my flip-flop clad feet had been attacked. Some bright mosquitos had searched out the easiest place to attack and had survived without even my awareness of what was happening.

I've been reminded recently of the battle raging, of the enemy prowling around to attack.  It's easy to identify a lion roaring toward you and certainly a lion's attack won't go unnoticed. Mosquitos can sneak under the radar and attack--perhaps not a deadly blow but certainly a blow that takes energy away from what could be, that causes us to spend time itching and swatting instead of living. While a lion's attack might be a traumatic event, the mosquito comes quietly whispering lies and subtly backing up those lies with a series of events that don't seem all that bad initially.  The cumulative effect is devastation.  No doubt about it, the enemy is alive and well and is using any means available to attack us.  Last night I was intent on killing the mosquitos around me.  I pray for eyes and a heart that enable me to kill the whispers of the enemy as well, to stand and continue to protect against the roaring lion as well as the buzzing mosquitos.  I'm so thankful that God hasn't given me that job alone.  Not only is he with me in the battle, I have a wonderful community around me that is supporting me in it as well.