God in the Geckos

Of all the creepy crawly animals that I’ve experienced here in Pohnpei, my favorite is by far the gecko. They come in all shapes and sizes and colors, from dull browns to dark greens, from tiny babies the size of a fingernail to full grown geckos the size of your palm. These little guys have the uncanny ability to climb on walls and hang out on ceilings, just chilling upside down. 

And have I mentioned that they’re everywhere? I lay down on my bed, look up, and see one on the ceiling. I grab the peanut butter jar from the kitchen counter and find another one behind it, just hanging out on the wall. As I type this, I’m watching a gecko hang out on the ceiling of our living room and another run around like it just had a too big cup of coffee. 

The funniest thing about the geckos is how they sound. They’ll be hanging out on the ceiling, minding their own business, when all of a sudden they let out a screech resembling what I’d imagine a baby pterodactyl might sound like. The sound was at first sharp and startling to me, but has become one of comfort and ease. You see, the geckos are out little, unexpected protectors. They eat all the bad bugs that hang out in our apartment (namely the cockroaches), thus earning the title of ‘Protector.'

I can always count on the geckos. Always count on them to be here, always count on hearing their little pterodactyl screeches a few times an hour. And being in the heart of my transition, the hardest part of coming to Pohnpei, I’ve come to see God in the geckos. 

I know that I was made to give my life away, to carry my cross and follow Jesus to the ends of the earth. And that’s what I’m doing. But it is by no means easy. 

For a while, all I could think about was what I gave up coming to Pohnpei for 2 years. Air conditioning. The physical presence of friends and family. My church family. The gym. Healthy food. Seasons. I was trying to hold onto these things so tightly, even though I didn’t have them anymore, that it was all I could think about. I was constantly reaching into the darkness, trying to reason with God to give those gifts back to me again. To feel comfortable and at peace and whole instead of anxious and hot and uncomfortable.

But that’s not a healthy way to live. All is a gift from God. Every sweaty Pohnpei day is a gift from him. Every smile from my 1st grade students (more about switching grades later, but I’m so happy!). Every walk through town, passing coconut trees and breadfruit trees and mango trees. Every dinner together as a community. Gift. Gift. Gift.  By opening my life to him, really and truly saying “God, all gifts come from you. I accept what you’ve chosen to give today, and will do my best to give it all back to you,” that is how to live in a whole and life-giving way.

As I lay down in bed tonight and sink my head into the fluffy pillow, I’ll look up and inevitably see a gecko or two on the ceiling. And I’ll think about God. How he’s always with us. Always protecting us. How he’s got out backs, just like the geckos do. I’m grateful for the various ways he speaks to me. As loudly as the pterodactyl-screeches of the geckos, and as quietly as a whisper. He is all around us, everyday, if we only have the eyes to see and ears to hear.

May you quiet your soul to hear God today, and be open to the many ways he may speak to you.