mosquito moments

The other night, after hours of tv, I had just read a little and prayed a little, turned out my lights and snuggled in for the night.
Lying still, anticipating sleep, I was dive bombed by a mosquito! It's little drone approaching my ear canal at top speed and pulling up just short of a crash landing, I'm certain. I flail about whacking myself, my pillow, and my blankets frantically, hoping that I'll get lucky and knock the enemy from the sky.
Then, of course, lying still...
Maybe if I ignore it, it will go away.

After all, mosquito bites aren't that bad.


The drone starts again.
I try to ignore it, be still, ignore it, be still, ignore it, it's getting close; I flail.
The droning has stopped.


Maybe I got it?


Did I get it?


Is that it?


Can I hear it?


Lie still, concentrate; can I hear it?

This is the most still I have been all day.

Is this the kind of still that I am supposed to be when I'm being still and knowing that God is God?

GAH! I hear it again!
I tear off the covers, stomp (unsuccessfully because of the carpet of clothing on my floor) to the light, flick it on. Search the skies (my ceiling) with an intensely hostile glare for my nemesis. Locate him high in a corner, follow his flight with unrelenting focus, and kill him with no regrets whatsoever.

Ok, not so biblical, but really, how often am I still? Really still? And listening for my God as intensely as I listened for that mosquito?

Ps 46:10