Going Buggy

This entry in my blog will not be inspirational. It is written, instead, as an advisory to any aspiring missionaries in my readership. My advice is this: when venturing into a new environment, be prepared to give nurture and sustenance, not only to the people in the mission field, but also to the insect population.

I, personally, have been giving prodigious aid to the blood-thirsty vermin of Guatemala. My body has become a veritable pincushion for their hungry proboscises. They stealthily scout my bedroom as I cower beneath my bedcovers, waiting for the opportunity to pierce my face, eyelids, and fingers. They lurk insidiously in my shower stall, which affords them the purview to attack where no insect has gone before. Grassy areas outdoors are also their battlefields, where even a copious application of insect repellent does not dissuade them.

I have concluded that God requires my magnanimity as a part of the Guatemalan food chain. I am a primary food source for the mosquitoes, which, in turn, provide alimentation to the birds. The birds do their part in fertilizing the earth with their droppings and enhancing the world with their beauty and music. In fact, it is the gentle cooing of doves and the twittering and chirping of myriad other birds that create a daily symphony which lifts my spirits and brings joy to my heart. Keeping the birds´ food supply viable is the least I can do to repay them.

In addition to the insects of a sanguinary nature, there are those creepy, crawly ones, too. One night, I discovered an extremely large cockroach in my bedroom. Not having any insecticide, I sprayed it with insect repellent and it scurried away. The repellent did not kill the critter, but most likely, it created an existential crisis within him. I can imagine the anguished arthropod visiting a cockroach psychiatrist and complaining, “I don´t know what it is, Doc, but lately, I just hate myself.”

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