Just thought it should be known that Sunday night I did, indeed, kill the cockroach. It may or may not have involved a little bit of screaming, standing on a bed, lots of orange scented bug killing spray (which doesn't actually seem to work very well), a broom, and a cheerleader (i.e., Sarah). But the nasty bug is now dead. I'll consider myself very blessed if that's the only time this year I have to deal with these critters.
But it does really make me wonder - why were these things created? And moreover, called good? Same with mosquitos. Did they not used to bite? 6 inch long poisonous centipedes? I was reading the other day about foot-long centipedes that can hang from the ceiling of caves and eat bats. Maybe Tolkien's and Lewis's fantasy words aren't quite so far from reality as I once thought they were. These thoughts tie back to a theme I've been trying to begin to grasp for a while: What do goodness and beauty really look like? I know the Father is the epitomy of these things--or rather, defines them. But what do they look like in life? I think we "cuddle-ify" them in our imaginations far too frequently.
My personal opinion is that they turned creepy with the fall. Not originally created creepy.
ReplyDeleteAnd I'm proud of you for killing the cockroach. :)
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