I'm tired, so this should be easy to read. 500 short sentences:
I've seen a lot of spiders around the house. That's what I get for not spraying. I sprayed really good last year and we saw maybe 2 bugs the whole year inside. We've been seeing like 2 a day recently though. Sure, I can spray NOW, but there are already probably a dozen in our house and maybe 2 dozen in the shed. Grrr to them.
I got in bed at 11:30. I could't fall asleep until 2:30. I just laid there... uncomfortable, restless, nauseous, sensitive and a little worried. It was a strange night. After giving up around 1:30, I got out of bed and sat in the dark living room. I soon remembered the shower that I was taking a few hours earlier. It hurt to wash my arm for some reason, but I didn't remember getting any cuts earlier. I got up and looked in the guest bathroom mirror, trying to adjust my sight to the lights quick enough to see if I could detect two small pricks in that area of my arm. I would then conclude that I had been bit by a spider. I couldn't see anything. The thought of spiders got my gears spinning though.
All the pieces connected. I wasn't suffering from the venom of a black widow, rather, I was feeling the results of bugs living inside my internal house.
If you don't spray your senses, "bugs" will crawl right on into your spiritual dwelling, just like how it is with the physical home. They both wind up feeling about the same.
I heard the truth, but I still have these critters creeping around in me. I laid in bed for another hour, tossing and turning before timeless emptiness lead me to the sound of my alarm clock. It took 4 hours of suffering to realize that I was being told to "spray" every entrance to my inner self. That's all good now, assuming I'll be fully obedient, but I still need to roam the rooms of my heart with the equivalent of a can of Round-Up and some toilet paper.
Soul-insect hunting.
If I can avoid another 3 1/2 hour nights of sleep before a day of work, it'll be far worth it. I'll make it, but today is no fun.
Secure the perimeter. Hunt the fanged and venomous creepitudes. I have my week/year/life cut out for me.
That should have ended on a high note... ooops. Um, "I can do all things THROUGH Christ!"
K
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