"Though I walk in the midst of trouble, You will revive me; You will stretch out Your hand against the wrath of my enemies, and Your right hand will save me. The Lord will perfect that which concerns me …" Psalm 138:7

Have I written about the moth invasion in our pantry?  Yes?  No matter. I'm writing about it again; if not for your pleasure or information, I'm writing for my own well-being. These words are my necessary to my therapy.

And even if I have written about it, I'm writing about a different crew of moths. I annihilated the last bunch singlehandedly, well with my hand and a poorly-placed sticky trap (that ended up with a box of Bisquick stuck to it).

After the last infestation I tirelessly worked to recompile the pantry. After disposing of every item in the pantry and thoroughly cleaning the shelves, I bought those clear plastic canisters for the new dry goods. I put everything back in all organized-like. The very strategic manner and finished product made me feel like I'd advanced three spaces in becoming more like my mother. There was no sign of them for eight months or so. But this summer to my utter dismay, I opened the pantry door and upon my sighting of a single new moth quoted Poltergeist,

"They're Baa-ack."

I must have brought home a bag of Doguet's rice with a stowaway (I recently noticed a flurry of them in the rice aisle in HEB). I've mostly ignored them since first  (re)sighting  deeming most every item in the pantry a lost cause. Anytime I've had to reach in the pantry to grab a moth-impenetrable can I slay a few of them with a paper towel (they're slow little fellas).

But mostly I keep the door closed and pretend they're not there(-Kind of like I often do with sin in my life) I have refused, on any notable level, to deal with them and then hope with a mystical kind of hope that I will one day open the pantry door and ......they.will.all.be.gone......

THAT didn't happen.

Some battles we can't ignore

I had to clean the pantry out again getting rid of boxed macaroni and meatloaf seasoning packets. This time I was rigidly selective about what went back into the pantry putting mostly canned and paper goods. I put new shelving in the laundry room placing on it  the flour and sugar canisters and any other grainy thing moths might find tasty. My thought is that with this shelf being out in the open, in the light, I'll be more observant of the loathed insects. I'm less than hopeful. I smashed one lone winged-beast in the living room with my socked-foot in the midst of writing this.

This too is a rite of passage; just like slow progressing potty training and lice, I tell my friend.

We live in a perpetual kingdom (where battles are a part of life)

for now......

Some we feel like we win.  Other tiresome conflicts we face over and over  (like the battle between you and your barking Schnauzer who's made you the most annoying house on the street or that cabinet door that bounces back open in a creaky sort of laugh every time you shut it.). Being a competent moth slayer doesn't mean all that much. Some battles won't matter very far down the road, much less in the end.

-their eternal significance=zero

And those things that we battle that do matter?  What about those?  We all struggle, be it presently with our own sin or for pain endured for our loved ones.....or a lot of both. These struggles leave a gaping wound at worst and a scar at best.

Incompetent moth slayers and those bloodied and bruised by battle, you've heard the new age battle cry?

Stay calm.

If the will of God is our will, and if He always has His way, then we always have our way also, and we reign in a perpetual kingdom. He who sides with God cannot fail to win in every encounter; and, whether the result shall be joy or sorrow, failure or success, death or life, we may, under all circumstances, join in the Apostle's shout of victory, "Thanks be unto God which always causeth us to triumph in Christ!"       -Hannah Whitall Smith

Because of God, we win.