Tsetse Fly

There is a teeny tiny insect, the Tsetse fly, that has a rather large proboscis, a tube like extension that they use to extract blood from their victims; think of it as a nasty little vampire that sucks life giving blood and in exchange, they "transmit disease", a sleeping disease "which results in swelling of the brain".

Deliciously inviting skin

Size is significant in my writing theory dear reader, because the infectious nibble from a pest can have long term debilitating and deadly effects: stealing ones wellness, health, the ability to stay awake, alert and lastly, the capability to think for themselves. 

A living being can be destroyed by a seemingly innocuous insect. Killing the Tsetse fly before it can kill you becomes mortal battle. Here is the problem: while you are huge in comparison, the Tsetse fly is microscopically small. It can attack and insert without your noticing it, until of course, the infectious affects take hold. Knowing the enemy and its capabilities is of vital importance: it is life and death combat prevented when you have foreknowledge. A pre-emptive strike may be required to save you from destruction. That menacing mite can be thwarted in its blood sucking efforts, with protective clothing: thickening the space between its probing blood thirsty proboscis, and your tender deliciously inviting skin.

Groundwork for big comparison

At this point, you may be wondering why you are still reading this and what the heck I am going on about? Well you know I love metaphors, dear reader, and that is what I am establishing here, the groundwork for the big comparison between Tsetse flies and humans.

Venomous sentences

Take the shot. Take another shot. The shots are words strung together to form venomous sentences aimed at making you feverishly sick, sleepy and unaware. The shot sentences are designed to take you down, dull thinking capabilities, and have you weakened and vulnerable: nowhere near the powerful you that you started out as. 

With each insertion of another's imposed proboscis, the venom takes over a little more of who you are, until all you are doing, is fighting infection, while life ebbs away. Your identity, the one that was given you upon your entrance into this world and prior to that, at the creation of time, is being stolen by a thief, one vicious word, thought, and intention sentence at a time.

Metaphor established

Unfortunately, I have compared Tsetse flies to humans, dear one. Unfortunately, the similarities between the two are real: blood suckers do what they do best ... they parasitically take health from their victims in exchange for sickness. They steal life in order to live. They weaken the strong because they cannot stand to compare themselves. In fact, they compare themselves so consistently, that they hate to the point of destruction. 

The tiny Tsetse fly has no conscience of course, and when it destroys a body and brain, it remains cognizant free: but the human, dear reader, he is a different entity: he is capable of full on frontal lobotomy attack by way of one shot at a time; one diminutive denigrating diatribe per conversation; one cruelly aimed at the heart and mind arrow that devastates the soul. The proboscis imposed, whether by fly or human, changes the infected one, causing damage. Imposition can result, in identity theft. But not forever, dear one ...

Awoken from the feverish infection

I am believing that we have all been imposed upon, or perhaps, have done the imposing? I believe that once we have been made aware, once we have awoken from the feverish sleep of infection, that we have choices to make. There is a you, an authentic genuinely uniquely wonderfully created you, that still exists, despite the thief's intention to steal who you are. 

There is a you, that God knows, that you have yet to discover, awaiting to emerge. There is a vaccine, called Truth, that can cool the fever and restore you to full strength and health. There is hope for healing and a return to your pre fabricated setting!

Identity hidden or misplaced

Tsetse flies have trouble getting through thick clothing. Blood sucking humans have trouble getting through the armour God asks us to don daily. Your identity has not been stolen, dear one, it has been hidden or misplaced. You can find it again or perhaps, for the very first time, by going to God through Jesus Christ.

He knows who you are, and wants you to know too! 

Go to Him