Coloring Contests and Grasshoppers

I can never catch all of what this guy sings about. But what I do catch sounds beautiful.

Eight hours from now I'll be waking up to The Office ringtone. Why so early? Because I need to take a five hour test starting at eight o'clock. FIVE HOURS!!!???
Yes.
It's called the ACT. And for some reason people spell it out rather than shout the word. I was told it stands for something, but I don't know what. And supposedly if you fill in all the right circles (yes, it's a coloring contest), people give you money to go learn things at their schools. But a five hour coloring competition? things are getting out of hand.

I think life is beginning to be a cycle of waking up and falling asleep for me. And not just the bed-sleep either. God wakes me up with this great new idea about Him, and everything begins to make sense, and i start feeling so real and alive, and all the gears in the clock just somehow start to work together. And then two days later my eyes are closed and I'm dreaming about anything that would make me happy, like Lee Lewis in a ballerina outfit before a crowd of a thousand laughing faces, or me winning money, or i dont know...something along those lines. And then when I'm asleep I start forgetting the important things, like God and his Grace and his Hope. and I start looking at all the insignificant and unspectacular things, like myself and my doubts and all these terrible things that fill my life that I wish would go away.

God woke me up again. This time he used a grasshopper.

I was feeling rather self-centered and materialistic that day. I spent the entire day wondering what it would be like to flip a certain somebody off, and I think I said three mean things to a teacher (in my head, of course). After school I spent two hours counting all my dollars, just to see how much I had. I wasn't planning on buying anything. But money feels good when you're angry. And I was angry.
It was at sunset that I walked into my room and noticed a bright green grasshopper perched horizontally on my bedroom window. Motionless. Alone. Tiny and insignificant. I crawled up on my bed to him and pressed my nose on the opposite side of the windowpane , so that we were staring at each other, face to face.
We were probably like this for five minutes. Nobody moved.
And then I noticed it. How big he looked. Like the monster from Cloverfield or Godzilla. From my perspective it looked as if he could have taken up the entire street below. Construction workers were out making bricks. It looked as though the grasshopper could pick them all up with one antenae and throw them in his mouth. It was a terrifying thought. Like the End Times or something.
Strange. Something so small that I could destroy with a stamp of my foot was terrifying me. It was so out of proportion that it looked more powerful and ugly than any of those construction workers down below, even though in reality they could've accidentally dropped a brick on its head and kill it.

I think this is what happens to us sometimes. All of our worries and doubts and enemies and trials get so close to our faces that we tend to blow everything out of proportion. We start thinking that these things could eat us up, eat the whole world up, eat God up, with one long antenae. But in reality, GOd could squish them with one "accidental" drop of a brick, or a rock, or...something.

It's a very basic thought. But I think it's necessary.

God is bigger than the boogyman.
He's bigger than godzilla or the grasshopper on your window.

Remember :)