I found a cockroach in the bedroom one morning. It missed dying by a hair’s breath, as it frantically scooted behind the dresser in time to avoid a slamming shoe.
It gave me the shivers, but after two days of constant lookout, I began to let my guard down. On the third morning, I opened the top dresser drawer to grab some nylons, but sixth-sense made me look first.
In the nylon box, full of brown knee-highs, nestled the shiny, dark-brown cockroach, all comfy-like.
Making heroic efforts not to scream, I carefully lifted the box and dumped it all in a trash bag, then hurriedly closed the bag. I ghoulishly watched the little life form as it realized what had happened and began scrambling to escape. A couple minutes later, I figured out how to kill it without opening the bag.
Strangely enough, for a couple of days, guilt actually followed me around. The little guy had found a nice warm home and wasn’t trying to “bother” anybody. Since I took offense, though, I wiped out the cockroach without even a fair trial.
People are not much different than bugs and other creatures: we move around on earth and find comfy places to live, not realizing that they belong to someone more powerful than us—God.
I’m so glad that God doesn’t react to us the way we react to cockroaches! At least, unless we’re wicked. Then, I imagine the similarity in disgusting looks and revulsion is there—after all, God did wipe out Sodom and Gomorrah, and the Canaanites. But, they each did have fair trials that lasted several hundred years before their sentencing and execution were carried out.
This is just something else for me to think about as I open dresser drawers.
(P.S.: I’ll still kill a cockroach if I see one!)