Cockroaches and Contentment

I awoke feeling almost normal for the first time in many moons. Just in time to return to the frenzy of homeschool and a new math book (the last one almost did me in... can't wait to see what is in store for us this semester....). Since I was sick for almost the entire Christmas break, I don't feel very rejuvenated. But, as the great philosopher said, "It is what it is." (This is a variation on "whatever", and "You are God and I am not.")

Stoically determined not to be depressed by the fact that in a blink of a flu-drooping eye, both boys had come and gone and presents had been opened and put away, and ornaments had flashed and vanished, but somehow there are still nasty leftovers lurking in the refrigerator...... I walked out this morning to the quiet sunny great room. Sunshine was gleefully pointing out that my newly cleaned windows were already covered again with dog snot and finger smudges. "Is there no balm in Gilead?" I said to myself, another variation of "It is what it is" with a touch of desperation implied.

And there to greet me wriggling in death throes upside down was a cockroach, frantically waggling its legs. It was a large one. It was clear it had escaped my meticulous housekeeping (lie detection device beeping) and had lived a good long life. Nothing grows that big unless it has been feasting for thousands of years on the debris of shoddy housekeeping. I watched it for a while, and strangely, felt compassion. Here it was, obviously dying and defenseless, utterly unable to flip its disgusting carapace over to scuttle away. I did not have the heart to squash it. I got a cup and scooped it up, then tossed it outside. It landed on its feet, like a large beetle eyed cat and scurried away into the bushes.

Cousin Carol had sent me a verse this morning, saying God had bugged her to send it. It is a favorite verse of mine, and the title of one of my paintings.
"The fruit of righteousness will be peace. The effect of righteousness will be quietness and confidence forever." Isaiah 32:17. This is a little different than "it is what it is." This could be restated as "It doesn't matter what it is. It matters who I am." Isaiah's life, as is true of most of God's prophets, was no picnic. Though educated and privileged, when he accepted the call of God to warn Israel of how they were falling away from God, he lived the typical unhappy and increasingly difficult life of someone who brings news no one wants to hear. It is a strong tradition that he was martyred by being put in a hollow tree which was then sawed in half. Isaiah, whose name means, "The Lord is Salvation", prophesied doom and gloom, but always added his message of ultimate salvation and hope. It is in Isaiah that the clear picture of a suffering Messiah is most clearly portrayed, a Messiah who would be sacrificed for our sins, and "By his wounds we are healed."Isaiah 53:5.
The Israelites have to have been scratching their head over that one.

Oddly, thinking about Isaiah and his life, mingled with the image of the struggling cockroach, I did feel some peace. Life was certainly not as pretty as I had hoped, not the past two weeks anyway, and the freshly cleaned windows needed cleaning again.... but God had urged a sweet soul to send a verse of comfort, and I had rescued a creature that I normally cannot bear to look at, instead of stomping on it til its disgusting green guts came shooting out in all directions. There is balm in Gilead.