I’m concerned about the abundance of grasshoppers forwarding their mail to 100 County Road 139A.  

I’m hoping they’re relatives of the friendly Acrididae clan and not some virulent locust variety intent on devouring what little shade I have. (Please. I just got my roof repaired. I don’t need a plague.)

They’re hanging out in my garage. On the back fence. On the back porch. Inside the screen porch (how???). Even on my shirt if I stay outside long enough. 

One just attempted to fly through my office window. Six times. I counted. It took him a while to realize that flight pattern wasn’t going to work.

Good for me – and him – we don’t leave our windows open. A grasshopper surprise-landing on my neck never ends well.

Flying straight into glass repeatedly before changing course. I’ve been there.

Many times in my 30+ years of ministry I’ve tried to go places God simply did not want me to go. Somewhat like Paul in his missionary foray into Bithynia.  “I don’t need you there right now.”

After the fact I could look back and see why. It would not have ended like I hoped.

In the moment I suspect the fruitless head-banging was blocking the Holy Spirit’s quiet voice. It’s hard to hear the voice of Jesus when your ears are ringing.

Jesus doesn’t shout but He does set up roadblocks. We can plow through them. Or we can stop and ask Him why there’s glass in front of that enticing view.

There’s always a divine reason.