The Christian life be like...

I took this photo about a year or so ago, during a time in my life when I was watching a lot of episodes of Chopped on YouTube. (That's Macho sitting next to my laptop.) Chopped is a very popular show on the Food Network; it's a competition in which four chefs each receive a basket of ingredients and are given 20 or 30 minutes to create a dish using those ingredients. There are three rounds, and the last chef standing will win $10,000. (It's kind of like Iron Chef with a shorter attention span.)

It's a fascinating show to watch, even if you're not a foodie, because it's a reality show in which anything can happen. The basket ingredients aren't always normal things like chicken, eggs, or tortillas; they're odd twists on normal things like game hens, ostrich eggs, or pastry dough (which you could maybe use like a tortilla... but would it cook in time?); or they're abnormal things like a butchered goat, durian fruit, or a giant jawbreaker (in that one episode, I think three jawbreakers rolled off the counter and landed on the floor while the contestants were trying to hammer them open, and one of the chefs ended up sharing their pieces with the other three).

Each competition has three judges (all experts in the culinary industry) who are watching the chefs' every move while they are cooking (sometimes yelling passionately, as if they're watching a football game on TV) and who offer very candid feedback in which their nitpicky comments contribute to the final outcome. And all of the four contestants have interesting life stories. Some of the chefs are underdogs who have a fighting spirit because they've had to fight for everything their entire lives; others are refined culinary artisans who have been honing their skills for years; and others are people who may not really be cut out for kitchen work after all. (One guy who dropped out of high school to pursue a cooking career ended up getting chopped after the first round, and one of the judges explained that he should at least get his GED.)

Each episode is predictably unpredictable, and yet I've noticed a few things:

1) Pretty much every contestant who flirts with any of the judges ends up getting chopped.

2) Almost every contestant who behaves like an arrogant jerk ends up getting chopped Proverbs 16:18-style.

3) Every contestant who gets lost in the details ends up forgetting something crucial such as a basket ingredient or forgetting to check on part of their dish that ends up burning or neglecting to adequately cook something that needs to cook for a long time.

4) The judges always have something nice to say about a contestant who works hard, works smart, and appears to do their very best, regardless of the outcome.

5) Anytime a contestant makes the best out of a bad situation (such as their entire dish burning and then they have to start over, or having to substitute an ingredient because they can't find what they're looking for in the pantry, or having to use a different piece of kitchen equipment because the other contestants are already using the equipment that they need, or finishing their dish despite cutting or burning themselves)... their episode is always a MacGyver-esque pleasure to watch. I have zero interest in the culinary arts, but I'm always inspired by the things that I see on this show.

So, initially I thought about writing about my adventures in watching Chopped and titling the blog post "Life on a plate," but I scrapped that idea because I found out that some band somewhere already gave one of their albums that title.

It's a catchy title, isn't it? Because it's true.

Similarly, we're all put on this earth with the expectation that we will live our lives to the fullest. The fullest way that I know how to live is hand in hand with God, in the arms of God, or clutching tightly to the ankles of God (depending on the situation I happen to be in). But we're not always given the best ingredients to work with. Sometimes we're handed something that makes us go, "Um, what am I supposed to do with this? I've never seen anything like this before," and we only have a certain amount of time to use it in. If we cut corners, or if we cheat, or if we step on people to reach our goals, or if we just give up and act like a baby because things aren't going our way, we will fail.

And the world is watching us to see how we respond to the situations we've been given. Will she make it? Will she accidentally injure herself? Why is she doing it that way? I've never seen anyone do it that way before. It's certainly a nail-biter.

And I've discovered that this life is similar to other things as well.

Almost a couple of years ago, God told me that I needed to play video games. I downloaded one version of Pac-Man onto my phone awhile back, and lately I've been playing it pretty regularly. This version is a bit different than the ones that I played when I was growing up. It uses power-ups (not just power pellets) that you can use to kill the ghosts that are chasing you, it rewards you for eating a certain number of dots, and you can earn coins and use them to upgrade your power-ups (or to continue game play without watching a video ad).

I've noticed a few other things about this version:

1) The blue ghosts basically go around in short circles, and their speed is slower than Pac-Man's, so you can discreetly follow behind them without them noticing you.

2) The orange ghosts are slightly smarter than the blue ones, but you should still avoid them because if they see you, they'll go after you.

3) The green and purple ghosts only go left/right, together, like a little military squad. They're not much of a threat unless they block you.

4) The gray ghosts are asleep until you get near them; then they will chase you. After they chase you for a while, they will fall asleep again.

5) The gray ghosts are always positioned near a pink ghost. The pink ghosts will start to chase you as soon as you move into their line of sight, and they move faster than any of the other ghosts.

6) The red ghosts are the most dangerous, I think, because they move quickly, are extra observant, and will even go backwards/upwards to chase you if they know where you are.

7) All the ghosts (except for the green and purple ones) are moving downward in the maze, into a hellish, electric ghost-graveyard of sorts. Pac-Man encounters the ghosts while he is moving upward in the maze, but if he lingers too long in the ghost-graveyard hell, he will die.

So, this game reminds me of spiritual warfare.

Just like the ghosts in the game have their own little quirks and specific behavior, our spiritual enemies (demons, iniquities, etc.) can be predicted, avoided, escaped from, and defeated straight to hell. If we linger in any hellish mire, we could be goners. The Holy Spirit is like a power-up that equips us to fight the enemy as we make our way through the maze.

Over the past several weeks, I've been dealing with an infestation of ladybugs in my apartment. I thought it was an adorable little infestation until I talked to some friends and did some research online. According to my findings, they're not just cute little ladybugs. They're also Asian beetles (or manbugs, as my birth sister used to call them) -- the orange ones that may or may not have those adorable little spots on their backs. In the wintertime, they hibernate in the walls, and in the late winter months (e.g., February), they come out of hibernation. The problem is, they forget how to get back outside, so they wander around my living room. They haven't bitten me or Choochie, but they potentially could if I don't get rid of them. If I hold one in my hand, and if I scare it, it could secrete a nasty-smelling substance on my hand (I guess it's pee that smells like poison?).

At my previous apartment, I only saw maybe two or three of them the entire time I was there, so I didn't think it was a big deal. But at this apartment, I've seen dozens. (Inside the track of my sliding door, I counted 11 ladybug/manbug corpses which I'm assuming got stuck there last winter.) At first, they started getting trapped inside a floor lamp that I keep in my living room. A few of them ventured onto my kitchen ceiling and window. But then many of them made it to my living room window or my dry bar.

Next year, I think I'll call the apartment office and have them send an exterminator. But this year, I decided to take care of the infestation myself. ('Cause I'm just like that.)

At first, I was amused by the little clusters of ladybugs/manbugs getting trapped in my stuff. Aww, poor little clueless insects. But then it started getting gross -- the fluttering of wings, the desperation of the doomed creatures, the constant appearance of bugs coming out of nowhere -- I mean, eww. I couldn't just ignore the problem anymore.

The Internet recommended either poison to kill the beetles or vacuuming them up so that you could help them get back outside. OK, I want to be helpful, but if they get too close to me or my cat, they're going to meet their Maker pretty instantly.

The entire situation reminded me of spiritual infiltrators (like demons or iniquities). If I cherish a sin or a problem in my life, or if I ignore it, I'll be in pretty big trouble, right? It's best to roll up your sleeves and just get rid of the problem.

But the deeper I got in my personal extermination process, I realized that the ladybugs/manbugs reminded me of ME. So, when I'm not exterminating the beetles, I'm shepherding them. Go figure.

Years ago, somebody gave me some plastic sandwich boxes (so you could carry a sandwich for lunch in a washable container instead of in a sandwich bag). I got rid of the boxes but kept the lids, which I've been using to transport the ladybugs/manbugs outside. (Kind of like a barge for beetles.)

So, when the weather gets warm and they come out of hibernation, I climb onto a chair or a stepstool, reach up, and coax the ladybugs/manbugs as gently as I can onto a little beetle-barge. Then I open either the front door or the sliding door and let them fly or scurry off to freedom. (Perhaps the neighbors have seen or heard me saying, "Bye! Have a nice life!" to a plastic sandwich-box top.)

The process isn't always smooth. Sometimes the bugs fly off the beetle-barge, and I have to chase them down again. Other times, I have to kind of force them off because they end up liking the beetle-barge. Still other times, I'm saddened to see that not all of them scurry away after I transport them outside. I wonder if either 1) some of them were already on their last leg or maybe 2) I accidentally scared some of them to death or perhaps 3) they had hibernation sickness. ("Who are you?" "Someone who loves you." (That's from Return of the Jedi.))

And other times, I don't feel like using the beetle-barge, so I'll grab a napkin or just use my hand (even if it ends up getting poison-peed on) instead. This morning, I was kind of sick and tired of the whole thing, so I was angrily flicking the bugs onto the beetle-barge with a paper towel, and I'm honestly surprised that I didn't exterminate any of them on the spot.

And during this entire process, I did end up transporting a mayfly back outdoors (and I'm hoping that I didn't accidentally hurt one of his legs). I killed a couple of spiders as well.

So, these forgetful, troublemaking little ladybugs/manbugs remind me a lot of myself.

If I lose my way for a season and get distracted by something that looks bright and shiny, and if it turns out to be a trap, I could be stuck there, and I could be a goner in no time. ("It's a trap!" Also from Return of the Jedi.) Seriously, if this happens, I need Somebody to come looking for me, to dig me out, and to transport me to freedom. Even if I end up poison-peeing in His hand.

God totally could have exterminated me a long time ago. He had every right to. I haven't always behaved in His home. But instead, He chooses to shepherd me to where I need to be, and it's for His name's sake. Sometimes He's gentle, other times He has to be a tiny bit more forceful, and still other times He has to really lay down the law until I finally realize that He's trying to help me... and that I can't make it without Him.

Just because I'll never join the dark side (Return of the Jedi) doesn't mean the dark side won't keep trying. Even though they know that my destiny is to stay with my Father forever.

But just like I'm shepherding a bunch of dumb little beetles back to where they need to be, I know that God will herd me as well. And just like I took care of Macho until the very end, I that know God will take care of me. And I know that I'm more important to Him than a cat or an insect. I'm His born-again daughter who He redeemed, loves, and still wants.