Honoring God's Creatures

Honoring God’s Creatures

A cockroach almost broke me this morning. I had pulled back the shower curtain to turn on the water and there it lay, a large roach, upside down, legs wiggling in the air, whiskers twitching. Silently fuming at the cats, I felt a wave of fear flush through my body from head to toes. Yes, fear.

“No, God. Please stop sending me these creatures. I don’t want to be a murderer!” I pled out loud, shoulders drooping.

I have come a long way with roaches. I can remember roaches playing a part in our home in Pt. Charlotte, Florida. There was that time after graduating high school I was having a slumber party with a few friends. Just as the credits were rolling on our movie, a seeming mass of roaches flew up out of the inside, 10-foot long planter in front of the row of windows covered by drapes. Blocked by the curtains, they could only fly in our direction.

Daddy had added this Florida room after a hurricane had dropped several roofs where our yard met the seawall at the dead end of a canal. He patiently took the roofs apart, using them to convert our screened-in porch into what became our TV room. However, he failed to put in a fixed bottom to the planter which he left inside the walls giving the insects easy access to the room.

Watching the movie in our pjs, we were the only ones home, relaxing and enjoying one of our last nights together before life took us in different directions. Not used to having to directly deal with these creatures, as they attacked us, we ran screaming to my bedroom, slammed the door shut and stuffed a towel under the door. Bathroom time was done in pairs as no one would walk down those six feet alone.

I do not remember how we slept that night as I only had 2 twin beds but somehow we did. Those black, slick-backed, flying critters had put terror into our hearts.

There was also the time I was home from college and literally felt one crawl on me while on the pot. Yep, I need you to understand my relationship with these creepy crawlies. The last I will speak of, though there were many more, was the time Grammy was visiting and saw one crawling across our black and white terrazzo floor.

There she was, broom poised and ready to swing, chasing it around the edges of the room, screaming at the top of her voice, “I’m going to get you! I’m going to get you!” We just stood and watched, knowing the determination in my good ole’ granny’s head. I laugh now at the thought of that sight.

Yes, those suckers can get the best of me. I remember the first time I was confronted with a large one after Max had passed. Mishka, my grandson, was just a little guy and fully expected me to step into the role of savior. A wave of disgust and terror ran through me and THAT’S the only time I got mad at Max for dying.

“Killing bugs be man’s job,” had been my mantra. I certainly did not feel I was built to take on that duty. As I stared that rascal down I knew I had to take some kind of action. Pulling on all my courage, I grabbed one of Max’s shoes, slammed it down on the unsuspecting critter, screamed and ran down the hall with Mishka. But...I had done it.

I don’t like to be a killer. I take spiders and beetles outside. However, mosquitoes, flies, gnats and roaches are a no-go. Dead on the spot.

Be that as it may, and the further I journey into my spiritual path, I listen to other’s experience and began to question my choice in these life-taking measures. One friend told her story of how she would catch them and set them outside. This was years ago and I made note at the time I was not that kind a person. Nope, they had to expire. Cecil, my friend, told me how a fly had landed on his hand, only to die a few minutes later. Ever since Cecil does his best to capture them and send them into the outdoor skies.

Taking all this into account, knowing how all things are here for a purpose and wishing to honor and respect all God’s creatures, I wondered what I would do in my future with the various wiggly-legged pests which would end up in my house. With temperatures in the 100s in Texas, it sometimes seem they come in simply to escape the heat.

Dealing with them has been a growing and learning experience for sure. I think it was Charlotte who really changed it for me. I discovered a tiny spider building a web in the corner of my shower window. The name Charlotte came to me and I decided I was going to let her be and see what happened. Sometimes I would sing to her and she would come out on her web. Mostly she hid when I showered. But it opened my awareness to the fact these living, breathing beings are here for whatever reason. When she passed, I mourned her.

The next roach which appeared got smushed but this time there was guilt for I had noticed at the last split second it’s hard exoskeleton was a myriad of colors, translucent actually, pretty. WHAP! It was gone. I thought about that roach a lot.

While outside now, I leave any bugs I meet, excluding mosquitoes, alone. It’s their territory, not mine. When they invade my space, I quietly ask them to leave. I told a wasp nest hanging on my garage door they would have to move or I would have to kill them and I didn’t want to do that. I repeatedly sent them a mental message for two weeks and by George, I drove in one day and the nest was empty. They were gone and have never returned.

On the next encounter with said scary obstacle, the roach, I did what any normal person would do. It was a bunch of little ones who decided they wanted to be in my kitchen which was absolutely unacceptable to me. The bug man was called and all were eradicated. Nope, did not feel guilty.

Later, Princess and Charlie, my cats, began leaving one around every once in a while, one drowned in their water bowl, one squashed in the closet. Not often but enough to let me know I needed to take action. The inevitable happened. One day one was left alive but stuck. I put on my big girl pants, grabbed an empty cottage cheese container and piece of paper, captured it, raced into the backyard and flung it high into the air.

I felt so brave, like I could do this thing, taking care of my home and all that transpired within. Over months they would bring another just when I thought God had listened to my pleadings of “Please, no more.”

Back to this morning and seeing that black, crunchy, wiggling legs and whiskers searching for help. I felt the full weight of being the Master of My Castle. As I raced to the kitchen determined to let this little fellow live out what life he had left, my eyes filled with pitiful tears. Hadn’t I asked nicely for God to stop sending this temptation to murder? Hadn’t I begged them to leave me alone, they could have the outside and let me have the inside?

Back at the tub, I covered his ebony form with the white cottage cheese container and stopped for a mere second to ponder over saving it’s life. Really? Is this what I would choose to do? Pushing the paper underneath, securing it safely, once more I rushed to the back door, across the patio and over to the wall of butterfly plants, lifting my arm to send him soaring across the green bushes. Seeing his little body skimming over the top of the bushes I turned and went back in.

It had set off something in me, something sad and weary, and I wanted to collapse and sob. It’s hard to be brave sometimes, you know?. It was the thought of not wanting to hurt God’s roach which somehow carried me through the agony of facing another one down. I felt defeated, having once again to deal with something leaving me full of sorrow. Heading to yoga, hoping the feelings would disappear, I wanted to do nothing more than escape to my cave, collapse, leaving the tasks of the world behind.

What surprised me in all of this is how the smallest things could have such a profound impact, forcing me to delve deep down inside me once more. What, indeed, was I to learn from these close encounters? A friend told me I over think things and she’s right. I have another friend who over thinks along with me and another who just loves me through it. I’m grateful for each of them.

Roaches must have a grand plan for their stay on Gaia. For the life of me I have never discovered what that is. Maybe it’s simply to help me learn to do what I have to do, watch as my thoughts and actions around them change, and be grateful I have the ability to do whatever it is I need to do in the moment.

I did call the bug man and he said the roaches appearing now are merely the city cleaning out the pipelines for hurricane season which is bringing them up through drains. I will continue to honor the critters in their outside world and stay fast in my quest to be Mistress of Her Castle. Two more roaches have now been escorted out to the butterfly bushes. It is over. Drains are closed and lesson learned. Honor and respect God’s creatures. This I shall do as best I am able.

I only hope they will honor and respect me back.

Roda Grubb

Still Asking, Still Learning, Still Becoming