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I Say a Little Prayer for You

I'm getting some amazing exposure therapy at work for my phobia of creepy-crawly things! Our new
church is large and beautiful with an aura of peace throughout--and occasional plagues of tiny beasts.

Just before the wedding of an entomologist, our walls and ceilings (and rooms, all over the floor) filled with itty bitty crickets. They were sorta cute and made a hypnotic sound through the hallways and empty rooms. After a few days, the crickets disappeared as suddenly as they had arrived.

We have our occasional hairy spiders and monstrous centipedes, which I still don't like, but somehow they startle me less in a big, calm space.

And we've been visited by other predators with more reverent attitudes, like this beauty of a praying mantis on (the outside of) a plastic-sheet-covered window. I like to think she's sanctifying the site of the under-construction Memorial Garden (where the ashes of our dead will be interred).

I'm expanding my appreciation of the natural world, I guess. Which is probably good for the writer of a novel about a little, archaic nation whose economy depends upon the lives of insects--bees in particular.

Which, now that I think about it, probably hasn't changed all that much. God is in the details.

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