I was given some false information about the camel spiders, or sun spiders, that were prevalent in the desert of Jordan when I was there on a temporary duty in 1996. I was told that the male spider would climb on camels, or soldiers, in the middle of the night and use an anesthetic like venom to deaden the skin and then make an incision. After that, the female would crawl up and lay eggs inside of the incision. The wound would heal and the baby spiders would grow under the skin until they were old enough to eat their way out.
ANALOGY OF A CAMEL SPIDER
The Middle Eastern desert regions of the world play host to a very interesting creature commonly referred to as the camel spider. Equipped with an ominous set of pinschers, a camouflage desert brown body, and sometimes growing up to 5 inches across, the camel spider is a frightening predator in the insect world. They commonly feed on grasshoppers and other small insects, but it is a peculiar reproductive practice that makes the camel spider unique. First, the male spider climbs onto an unsuspecting, slumbering victim such as a camel and uses anesthetic type venom to deaden a small portion of the animal’s skin. Then, he makes a small incision with his pinschers. The female then comes along and lays her eggs inside the incision. The cut soon heals over and the eggs are left under the skin to live off of the nutrients that are provided by the host animal’s body tissues. Once the eggs hatch, the baby camel spiders eat their way through the flesh and make their arrival into the world.
So it is with Satan in our lives. He is an ominous sort of creature that any normal person would steer clear of. But rather than walk right up and introduce himself, he likes to sneak around and wait until we’re sleeping. He waits until we are at a weak moment in our lives and then strikes. Perhaps a loved one has just died, or maybe a marriage or long time courtship is on the rocks. He creeps in with his crafty words and worldly lies and tries to anesthetize the hurt before God can use it to help us grow. Then he plants eggs of doubt, hate, or unbelief and they remain there, hidden under the skin, constantly being fed by the entourage of hateful, hurtful thoughts that he so willingly provides. Finally, after weeks, months, and sometimes years of gestation the ugliness that is on the inside eats its way out and we find ourselves in a swirl of mixed emotions wondering how it ever began.Are you eaten up inside by a hurt that happened a long time ago? Do you walk around with an incision on your heart where Satan has planted some pretty ugly eggs that have grown and festered? Speaking of Jesus Christ, the Bible says in Matthew 11:28, "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” On the contrary, 1 Peter 5:8 warns, "Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.” Do you serve a Saviour who loves you and wants you to have rest? Or do you serve the devil who is waiting for the opportunity to devour your soul? Are you willing to accept the fact that you are not perfect and you need the love of Jesus in your life? Or are you content to sit in your cesspool of self pity and sing, “Woe is me?” You don’t have to allow Satan to gain a foothold in your life. Look to the cross of Christ and there you will find the answer to all of your problems. Cast all your cares upon him, for he cares for you. He gave his life on this earth so that you could have an abundant life in heaven. Don’t let Satan, that old camel spider, rob you of God’s richest blessing.
After reading my daughter's spider story, I thought I would write my own:
When I was about 10, in a decision that defies logic now that I am a parent myself, my parents bought me and my older brothers motorcycles. We used to ride them on our dirt road and through the nearby woods (that we called “The Flats”).
One day, I was following my brothers through the flats on my little Honda 50, when they got a little ahead of me and I lost sight of them. I turned off on a trail that I thought was the right one, but, of course, it wasn’t. In fact, it was on a trail that we hardly ever rode on.
Not too long after I turned, I ran through a giant spider web that was stretched across the trail. Then there was another, and another until I finally passed through a web and a big garden spider landed squarely on my face shield (thank God I had a helmet on). Panic stricken, I fell over and when I tried to stand up I found myself tangled in what seemed like hundreds of spider webs. It seemed like a bad horror movie.
I remember screaming like a girl as I frantically tried to get the spider off my face shield and the webs off my arms and body. Somehow, one of my brothers heard what was going on and managed to get me out and calm me down. To me, it was a pretty traumatic event and I have never liked spiders since.
So, there you have it. The secret is out. I am afraid of spiders. Still, when duty calls and I must be the man of the house, the ever present spider-killer, I will put on the face of courage and squash one if I have to. Although, I have to admit that even while I am doing it I am dreading what might happen if I miss and it jumps on me.
When you hire someone to read a book on CD you should make sure they are literate. Make sure they can pronounce words properly.
So I'm reading "New Moon", book two in Stephenie Meyer's vampire series. It's pretty good, but it could have used a better editor. She uses the word 'familiar' WAY TOO MUCH! (and by way too much I mean at least 6 times on a page sometimes) How is it that I am so aware of this? Because the stupid moron who's reading the book cannot pronounce the word 'familiar' correctly. So every few sentences I hear 'fermillier'. Yes.
BAD ENGLISH! BAD BAD!
Fahmilliar...not fermillier.
Its not that hard.
(every time she says it, and it is a lot due to Ms. Meyer's negligent editor, I just want to bang my head against the steering wheel)
My daughter recently wrote a funny story about a spider that made its home underneath the dashboard of her car. It is an amusing story and one that I can totally see happening to her.
I miss her terribly. We have a special relationship, my daughter and I, and we had some really great times together when she was growing up. Sometimes it's hard for me to believe that she is married and living six hours away. For the longest time after she left, we would go into restaurants and when the hostess would ask how many I would say, "Five." Then, I would remember that she wasn't with us and have to change it to, "Four."
Anyway, before I start bawling and short out the keyboard with tears, check out my daughter's story. I think you will find it amusing. You can read it on her blog HERE.
So…
I am sitting here and it has been days since I have posted anything. I had a serious adventure getting here. I sat in the same dirty clothes for days. I slept in dirty hotel rooms. I made it from Florida to Tucson to Portland, and it only took me three months to feel ridiculous joy again.
I feel I could show a bunch of silly picture from along the way. I could regale you with tales of the ups and downs of every step along the way or I could just tell you what I figured out.
One simple thing…
One idea that hardship and good friends have taught me along the way…
Don’t stand for misery. Stand up and walk out the door. Adventure and uncertainty are the best feelings in this world.
The simple thought that keeps me waking up every morning and smiling from ear to ear is decidedly simple. It is simple and I like it.
“I don’t know.”
Take from it what you will. I give that sentence everything I have everyday and it gives to me plentiful joy.
I read a book recently about "wreckers". From the early 1800's up until the early 1900's there were ships specifically set up to rescue other ships that were stuck on the reefs in and around the Florida Keys. The wrecker crew would save the people on board and then commence to salvage the cargo, often in foul weather and at the risk of their own lives. Of course, they did this with the expectation of being rewarded for their efforts.
There was an extensive court system set up where a judge determined just how much the salvage crew should be rewarded. The judge also had the power to revoke the wrecker's license if he thought they acted inappropriately.
There were differences of opinion about whether these men were saviors or scoundrels. On one hand, they risked life and limb to save lives and cargo, but on the other hand, they did it for profit. From what I was able to gather, there were more good guys than bad in the business. A lot of times, they would work for hours, sometimes days to salvage the cargo from a ship and then only be rewarded a small amount.
I don't know what it was like to be a wrecker, but it seems like a hard life to me and one that I would much rather read about than live.
I got to read a lot on the trip.
This one:
Eric, another in the discworld series by Terry Pratchett. It is where a young teenager tries to summon a demon to get three wishes, and gets instead a bumbling wizard who has been in the netherworld with the Luggage...a sentient traveling tool. It was a fun and enjoyable romp made bittersweet due to me just finding out that Terry Pratchett has early onset Alzheimer's, and the series will be at an end. All the same, this was a great twist on the Faustian agreement and I had many a giggle.
Book number three was one I've been working on for a while. I love Laurie R King, and often her books make me work,
Currently reading: Reaper by Terry Pratchett, New Moon by Stephenie Meyer.
I'm home now.
It was good and rough.
Hard to say goodbye to someone I love, and rough watching ones I love hurt so badly.
It was really sad seeing my dad say goodbye to the last member of his family. Worse yet, watching him realize that the good reunion that has been happening for the last few years won't go any further. And the most awful was that it happened on my dad's 60th birthday.
I also realized that I didn't really grieve, I was more into making sure everyone else was ok. It's really starting to hit me, and I'm really sad, plus I don't have any patience for the little things in life at the moment.
I did have some great times though.
My Aunt asked me to sing at the Memorial. My uncle, Norm, loved Elton John, so I sang "Your song" (with some minor lyrical adjustments...namely cutting out stuff about being a potion maker at a traveling show) and it went really well. It made my cousins cry....I almost didn't get through it myself.
I also got to hear so many stories about Norm, and realized that some of my tendencies are not weird but family traits. Norm had a photographic memory, and had a great memory for people, names, and Useless facts. He also rarely slept on a plane :) -things that are also mine, so now I know part of him lives on in me, and my dad, and my siblings.
I also got to spend some time with Mary. She is amazingly generous and open hearted. I hope so much not to loose her now that Norm is gone. I really love her, she gave me my uncle, and that was a gift I will always treasure.
The really fun part about all of this was getting to finally meet Susan and Duncan. They are my other cousins that I had seen many pictures of, but never met. Let me just say that they are classy. I already knew Tom and Meredith, and thought they were amazing, and now got to meet the rest of the family, and I'm just as impressed. They were gracious, caring, and watched out for their mum tremendously. I'm proud to call them family.
Dad and I stayed with Norm and Mary's neighbors, Lenny and Cindy (and the not to be forgotten Baby, the dog). They had a delightful Baby Grand piano, and I found that Lenny used to drum for Patsy Cline, and so we had a couple Jam sessions. They were wonderful to us, and I am so glad Mary has such wonderful friends to care for her.
O.k. I think I've shared enough for now...I'll have to reserve the obnoxious Best Buy experience for another post. Let me just wrap up with the thanks;
Kelly-you are remarkable with your generosity and support. Thanks for being a true friend.-ps I started watching Gossip Girl on the recommendation of your blog...we'll see how I like it.-
Carmen-despite everything going on with you, you guys being willing to come and meet me so far away from your home with a keyboard. It was above and beyond, and so gracious.
Amanda-checking up on me, making sure I was o.k., thank you, you made me feel like I hadn't been forgotten.
Everyone at work who worked extra, and covered for me not being there...thanks.
So here are two songs, the Elton John one, that I sang most of, and one by Lou Fellingham that I sang Sunday at church, in honor of my uncle.
I read a poem on Ezibella's Blog that is a sobering reminder of the sacrifices made by so many of our men and women in uniform. Please make your way over there and check it out.
It was still dark when I headed out for work this morning. We had a pretty bad storm last night and when I got to my truck I noticed that the roll around basketball goal had fallen over. The idea that it was laying on the ground bothered me (a startling revelation that my daughter's repeated accusations of being obsessive/compulsive might actually have some merit) so I walked over to stand it back up in the position that it was meant to be in. I leaned over, grabbed hold of the goal post and pulled up.
I was surprised at how light it was and I was thinking about that as I stood it back up. Just about the time the goal got over my head, a big pool of water that had been resting on the backboard fell right on top of me. The deluge of cold rain water that doused my head and soaked me to the skin quickly drove away any drowsiness that might have been hanging on from the previous night's sleep. Needless to say, I had to go back inside and change shirts before going to work.
The next time that happens, I think I'll just let the basketball goal stay on the ground… maybe…if I can stand to see it out of its correct position. Ok… no I won’t… I’ll have to pick it up.
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