Don't Let the Bed Bugs Bite!

This past Wednesday evening, I woke up literally every hour, itching frantically, only to finally rise out of bed in the morning with a body strewn with red dots. I looked like I was on the verge of chicken pox. I just assumed I was the target of every mosquito in the region. However, some friends suggested, by the look of the bites, that they may in fact be a result of bed bugs. UGH! So after researching cause, results and preventative measures, I went to town. I spent most of my Saturday morning and afternoon, washing sheets and bed covers at high heat. I used Lysol and bug spray throughout the room, vacuumed every crevice of the walls, closets and furniture, including every inch of the mattress and even the couch. No item was left unturned. Then with a scorching hot iron, I ironed every inch of the mattress. These blood-sucking monsters were going to die.

Then I started thinking, “Why was I taking such drastic measure to make sure they suffered?” Isn’t that what we do typically when we’ve been hurt by someone? We tend to go to extreme measures to either cut them out of our lives or make sure they suffer, even if they don’t know what they did exactly. We turn up the intensity of guarding ourselves from being hurt again, maybe even going to the lengths of hurting those who hurt us. To what ends will we go?

Sure, I made those little guys suffer, rightly so. With relationships, it’s a different story. We need to put down the Lysol, the vacuum, the iron and say “I’m sorry. I forgive you.”

Chasing Trucks

My parents and I made the drive to the factory with the dogs. As we arrived, the dogs eagerly circled at the back of the car, before they could leap to their freedom. I was chatting leisurely with Mom and Dad as I introduced them to friends. I saw the Pepsi truck backing towards us through the parking lot. However, within a moment, I realized that the dogs were running across the lot to greet my friends. Instantly, I lunged to their rescue standing between them and the reversing truck. Immediately proceeding was the sound of screeching tires, a split second in which time froze in silence and then shattering glass that covered the concrete. Unfortunately, the glass bottles being delivered were secured with crates and rope, eliminating any leeway for sudden stops. Despite the clean up time for the drives and our $50 damage charge, we all walked away unharmed.