Mosquito Nets.

Let me just set your mind to rest one time and for all right now about something I am sure you have been thinking:
Wild black raspberry jam does not just make itself.
No no. Not in the slightest way.
I realize that when you go to a grocery store and see entire shelves, aisles long, full of jams, jelly, preserves, conserves, and chutneys of all kinds that your mind may assume they just magically appeared there in your super market.
But no.
That is not the case.
How do I know this?
Because I am in the jam making process.

You will remember that last year I went absolutely bonkers about the wild berries that are in the woods around my house. Well it's time again, Wolfies. Oodles and oodles of them surround my residence, taunting me with their abundance and mocking my efforts in futility to capture them all. But I did a pretty decent job and I just cooked a bunch of them to make jam; feeling pretty good about this year's crop, let me tell you.

BUT. And there is always a "but" with these things. This was not a battle easily won. Before I could even think of cooking and sanitizing jars and pectin and all the various what-have-yous, there is this little bit about PICKING the berries. For get the thorns, they were the least of my worries. Forget the heat, it hasn't gotten hot here yet. This year?
Mosquitos.
That's right.
The vampires of the insect world are out in full force. And they are vicious.

So the story goes that one morning I got up to pick berries around 6:00 am, and I was dressed in what I thought was fool-proof berry picking attire. Pants, knee high leather boots, a t-shirt covered by a hooded sweatshirt. The hood tied tightly so that the only part of my body really showing was the middle oval of my face.
This was going to be great.

And it was great. I got out there in no time and was picking picking picking in the immense thickets when out of nowhere I feel this little biting pain on my face.

Moquito.
SWAT!
I made quick work of him!

I did not, however, make fast enough work of his friends.

Continuing on in my berry quest, they continued in their quest for my blood. Not to be deterred by silly little bugs though, I pushed on, figuring I would take care of the carnage on my face when I got back.
And "Carnage" is almost an appropriate word.
Upon arriving home, ONE HOUR LATER, I look in the mirror to see.....what?
Any guesses?

FIFTEEN BUG BITES ON MY FACE.

MY FACE.

Just a sampling for you.

{Ha. It reminds me of a year ago when I was on a bike ride and was falling...into a barbwire fence.....and out of my mouth like nothing I yell, "NOT THE MONEY MAKER!!!"  How ridiculous am I?!}

So there they were---on my face----("the money maker"). And I had to leave for work in an hour! Being the resourceful woman I am, I did this treatment of vinegar and baking soda (NOT at the same time) and voila, they were gone in an hour. But I was still offended that they had even come close in the first place.

Not to be deterred by the little varmint blood-suckers, I did what any self-respecting berry-picking woman would do.

You get angry and make a hat. A mosquito net of the most sophisticated kind.

I had them utterly confounded, let me tell you.
And I got berries galore.

And then I was a happy berry picker.

What a joyous occasion. To have buckets full of the fruits of my labor.

All of this is to tell you---wild black raspberry jam doesn't just happen.

And as I was out there, fighting literally thousands of bugs, going to great lengths to keep myself untainted by their claws, all I could think was, "Why don't I fight with such fervor for my relationship with the Lord?" For surely, no matter how great home-canned jam is, it's nothing compared to Him. And knowing him.

Do you ever wonder where your fight has gone? Where all of your intentionality to remain close to Christ has flown away to?
If I am honest, I do sometimes. It's in those seasons of busyness (like mine right now), or those times of being listless or apathetic.
And when I let those things, which are silly (like mosquitoes), get in the way of he and I, also like the effect of the mosquitoes, the life-blood gets drained right out of me. Causing me to become even more apathetic, listless, disinterested, and then sometimes making it all completely slip my mind.

Why don't I make a mosquito net for my spiritual life?
Why don't I understand the life-broad truth that nothing worthwhile JUST HAPPENS. It takes a conscious, concerted effort, or you get nothing.

To make jam, I have to be intentional.
To stay close to Christ, I have to be intentional.

The precept is the same.

It's a thought, babies. What are you not being intentional about when it comes to Christ?
And what kind of "mosquito net" can you create to change it?

Love you, Wolfies.
I wish I knew every single one of you in real life.