Life is
full of PARADOXES. I was house sitting
for a blind man over the weekend. I
spent a great deal of time sitting on the sofa next the lamp reading. I started to feel things crawling on me and
then I spotted one of the creatures which was very tiny and jumped very
quickly. FLEAS! By the time I left the house on Monday
morning, I was so bitten by these horrible creatures that I was red all over
and in great misery. I went home and
slathered my on-fire body with chickweed ointment, which did give some
relief. But I had to go back the next
day to install timers on the lights and naturally, one of them was right next
to the flea-infested sofa and I got a second round of bites. Coming home, all I wanted to do was tear off
my clothes, which I was certain still harbored these monsters, but my gas tank
was empty and it was a long drive, so I had to stop for gas. My sense of modesty overcame my deep desire
to strip to the skin right there at the gas pump as I could feel the little
critters trapped in my long skirt continuing to chomp away at my flesh.
WHERE
could these things have come from? The
blind man has no cats or dogs. Then it hit
me. He had told me about some people
from the CHURCH who came to visit him and…brought their DOG with them! First of all, I can’t begin to imagine how
anyone could be so RUDE as to bring their dog unannounced to someone else’s
home and expect to be granted entry. But
most people are too polite to tell them to leave the dog outside, so they are
more or less a captive audience. But to
bring a FLEA-RIDDEN dog to a BLIND MAN’s house, is unconscionable! First of all, he can’t see the fleas, so he
has no idea what is attacking him. (He
thought it was ants, and when he told me about it, I had thought it was ants
that got on him from the orange trees out back.
I had no idea they were fleas in his house!) So here is PARADOX ONE: Christians, who are taught to love their
neighbor and “do unto others”, come to visit bringing a flea-ridden dog. Thankfully, the blind man rarely sat on the
sofa and they seemed to be concentrated there where the dog usually sat (on the
carpet), so his bites were not too bad, thankfully. (By the way, this went on for several months
before he asked them not to come anymore.
It was not just a one-time deal; it was their PRACTICE.)
SECOND
PARADOX: I love hot showers. I find the hot water comforting. I hate cold showers. The problem is, heat tends to activate flea
bites while cold tends to shut down the itching. So the very thing I find the most comfort in
results in the most misery.
THIRD
PARADOX: It occurred to me that this
must be tied in with my personal karmic debt.
(Yes, I do believe in karma; it is called sowing and reaping in the
Bible.) It occurred to me that
relatively speaking, this was a light sentence for all the years I condoned the
slaying of animals to satisfy my lusts for their flesh to consume, their skins
to wear, and their feathers for my sleeping comfort. I have repented of that (I’m now an ethical
vegan), but it hasn’t escaped me that instead of me eating them now, the tables
have been turned and they are eating me.
There
are several morals to this story.
Perhaps something here will be relevant to your life and circumstances.
