Perspective from a Small Pest.

I don't want to listen.

His words echo about in my head,
"...bless them that curse you,
do good to them that hate you,
pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you;" *
 and I know what He wants,

but I don't want to pray for her.

Anger stirs and I throw the mulch onto the flower beds

instead of tossing it.

My breathing gets heavier.

My arms grow weary and my back twists with the onslaught.

I don't want to pray or give it to God, or even think about it all.

I want to hold on to my anger.

In the evening when all are in bed,

I move in the kitchen, preparing hot water for my tea.

One glass at night is a secret delight.

Suddenly,

I hear it.

The familiar drone catches my ear and I swat instinctively.

Mosquito.

He's there, somewhere in the kitchen,

spoiling my quiet peace with his tiny presence.

I know that if I ignore him,

his puncture will follow

and a swollen bump will continue to pester me for days after.

He brings it back to my mind.

I think of my anger.

My disregard of God wanting me to pray

instead of be angry

like the pesky mosquito

won't let me go.

I crumble.

"I'm sorry, God.

I know you know me and see me as I really am.

You see this pride in my anger.

I didn't want to pray.

Anger was easier,

but it's presence wouldn't let me free."

It was eating me.

In the silence of the night

as I spotted that mosquito,

I knew that sometimes God uses little things in quiet places

to draw us to where He wants us to be.

Perspective.

From a mosquito on a quiet night.

Linking up to:
Wearethatfamily.com 
Gnowfglins.com: Simple-lives-thursday 

Thegypsymama.com

(Five minutes to write, uneditted from the prompt: "Perspective")

*From the Bible: Matthew 5:44b