I don’t know about you, but I have a hard time focusing long enough to pray. Oh, I talk to God, but all too often my needs and concerns wind up tumbling all over each other like starving puppies scrambling for their mama, a machine-gun spray of frantic prayer requests peppering heaven. I sound more like an auctioneer than a woman having a conversation. It’s not very soul-sustaining.

Last week it occurred to me that there was no way I was going to be able to slow down enough to spend quality time with God if I stayed in the house–there were just too many distractions, too many other things tugging at my mind and heart. So I dug my tennies out from under the bed, laced them up, and snuck out the back door so my kids wouldn’t see me leave and want to come with (just for the record, my husband was home with them). It was a perfect plan–the beauty of creation would uplift my spirit, the walking would center my mind, and I would have a good twenty minutes to just soak in God’s presence.

I hadn’t gone five steps from my house before a hornet started circling my head. Now, this was not surprising in and of itself–I live in the woods, and wasps enjoy the natural foliage as much as I do. What was surprising is that the hornet trailed me a mile down the road, resisting every attempt I made to shake it. Now that’s commitment.

I did my best to ignore it, and had a wonderful, refreshing time with God (except when the stupid thing got tangled up in my hair–THAT was hard to ignore!). Still, I pondered the situation when I got home. I wasn’t wearing perfume, didn’t have any product in my hair, and was pre-shower, so there was no chance the bug was attracted to the scent of my shampoo. I decided that the red shirt I was wearing must be the culprit, and decided to wear drab colors on my next walk so the hornet wouldn’t mistake me for breakfast.

But the next morning, the hornet joined me again, following me for my entire walk. And the next. And the next. In fact, I have yet to go for my prayer walk without a hornet circling my head like an unholy halo, buzzing threats from every side.

This morning, I was getting irritated, and asked God what was up with the hornet. After all, the whole road is lined with wildflowers–why didn’t the hornet just go sip some honeysuckle and fly home with a full belly, leaving me alone?

God didn’t answer, but I figured the hornet was a good analogy of all the anxieties that distract us from our walk with God, demanding our attention with their angry threats, and ordering us to give their presence precedence over God’s. But really, it’s just a stupid, noisy bug, and one swat from God’s hand (and probably ours) would wipe it out completely. Sure, it’s capable of creating a little short-term pain. But it’s not a true threat, not in the grand scheme of things.

There. Now that I’ve blogged about it, maybe the hornet will leave me alone.

But I’m not counting on it. Perhaps God is trying to cultivate the “discipline of ignoring hornets” in my life. Goodness knows I need it.