On Alert — A Reprise

I thought I understood what “be on the alert” meant, but I now realize I’ve been nearly clueless. Recently I’ve had a crash course because I’ve had to deal with a little unpleasantness.

For the second year in a row, I’ve been faced with an infestation of earwigs. According to all the sources I’ve checked, they are relatively harmless to humans. They don’t carry disease and, contrary to the myth associated with them, they don’t crawl into people’s ears and burrow into their brains. They do have a pair of forceps pincers on their abdomen, and I can attest to the fact that they know how to use them. But apparently their pinch causes only temporary discomfort.

The worst thing about them, for me, was their sudden appearance. I’d sit down for dinner and an earwig would scurry out from under the placemat. I’d open my napkin, and an earwig would be clinging to the cloth. I’d go to wash my hands or take a shower or do the dishes, and earwigs would zip around the sink or tub. Twice there were earwigs in with the bread, and I just recently found one in the refrigerator. Worst, perhaps, they’ve been in my covers and yes, in a few articles of clothing.

At first all these sudden appearances were frightening, and I’d jump from my seat, heart racing, and in my panic flick away the skittish things. I’d spend the next moments trying to find them again to kill them, and failing to do that, I’d spray insecticide to try and destroy anyway.

This second year enduring them, I’ve learned a thing or two. I no longer unfurl my napkin without a second thought. I don’t pick up the dishcloth without first looking on the underside to see if an earwig is clinging to it. In truth, for the first time in my life, I’m on the alert in my home. I’m watchful, careful, willing to take the time to inspect the bottoms of plates and bowls before depositing them where they should go.

In spite of all my care, they can still surprise me. The one in the refrigerator certainly did–I wasn’t on the alert for one there. Once, after thoroughly cleaning off the kitchen counter top in an effort to track down one that scurried under the microwave, I reached for a sponge to rinse off the household cleaning spray, and, you guessed it, found an earwig hugging the bottom. It was the one place I hadn’t looked.

I’ll be honest. I don’t like having to be on the alert in my own home. I want to relax and not have to worry about bugs popping out at inauspicious times. But I’d rather be on the alert and get those earwigs before they get me.

Imagine if those earwigs were actually as dangerous as they look (I’m convinced they belong in the same family as scorpions). How much more important vigilance would be!

Scripture tells the believer, on several occasions, that we are to be on the alert.

“I know that after my departure savage wolves will come in among you, not sparing the flock; and from among your own selves men will arise, speaking perverse things, to draw away the disciples after them. Therefore be on the alert” (Act 20:29-31a).

Be on the alert, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong (1 Cor. 16:13).

With all prayer and petition pray at all times in the Spirit, and with this in view, be on the alert (Eph. 6:18a).

Be of sober spirit, be on the alert. Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. 1 Peter 5:8).

I’m beginning to understand, being alert is more than doing a heads up. Being alert means doing your homework and knowing what you’re up against, studying the habits of the enemy, and staying ever watchful. Not letting down your guard, even when you think you ought to be safe (surely, not in the refrigerator! 😮 )

I also notice that the metaphors used to help us grasp what we’re up against aren’t comparing our spiritual enemy to a little bug that causes discomfort.

Rather, our enemy is a roaring lion, aiming to devour. Think Nature Channel or PBS and those shows about wildlife in Africa, with a lion lurking, lurking in the tall grass, ready to spring on the unsuspecting gazelle at the back of the herd.

Or our enemy is a savage wolf, right in among the sheep. Paul didn’t need to tell the Christians in the first century that wolves eat sheep.

In other words, our spiritual lives are at stake. Perhaps its time to start checking in all the dark and damp cracks where earwigs, er, where the enemy of our soul might be prowling.

Happily, this article first appeared here in May 2013 and does not identify a current bug problem! Our apartment building management has invested in an extermination service which makes all the difference. It strikes me just now that perhaps God’s word is our spiritual exterminator.