Fear and a Gecko Named Phil

I was told when I moved into my new (don’t get the wrong idea with the word new, this was simply “new to me”) hotel room that I had a roommate named Phil, a little gecko. It took a few days before I spotted him the first time, mostly he hung out on the ceiling in the kitchen area. I thought he was kinda cute, he seemed to be a silent guest who kept to himself. 

Until…

I was settling down for the night, in my bed, and kept hearing an interesting chirping squawking sound. My brain kept convincing me it was just a bird or something outside my window, but it did sound uncannily close. My bed sat right up against the wall under the window, so it would make sense it sounded close, right? But the third time I heard the noise - I froze. I’m not being dramatic in saying it was loud…there was no question now, something was in my room. What makes such a sound? A rat? A bird? What…? Then it dawned on me. I jumped up and pulled back the curtain,  and of course out scrambles Phil. He had been happily perched right above my head singing his little heart out. But that was it. Too close for comfort. I chased him along the wall and he scurried into the closet - out of sight at least, so I went to bed. 

But something happened to my mind - this awareness, an awakening that became this program running in the background. I noticed my behavior changing — the way I entered the house, where my eyes went, how many times I turned the lights on and off at night, my gaze constantly scanning the environment for movement. And then, that dreaded squawking sound that would send me into a craze running around chasing geckos out the door.

Startling awake in the middle of the night to see him right at eye level on the wall next to me sent me over the edge. I couldn’t take it. The anxiety became palpable.

I tried laughing at myself, I logicked, I researched ...I kept talking myself out of the fear I felt.

The internet told me how sweet and harmless these little creatures are, and in daylight on walls outside of my house - I agreed! The squawking sound is normal, just what they do. They are harmless to humans and incredible roach repellents.

I should be grateful. I shouldn't care. I should be fine.

Who cares if they are in my room? But to no avail. My body would not calm down. I could not turn off the radar, and my sleep was regularly disrupted - mostly by my own self waking up and scanning my environment. A reflex. An instinct. Hyper vigilance.

The morning I was awakened by two little guys squawking in the kitchen I lost all hope. I noticed that as soon as they sensed my presence they left the room right through the front door, where there was a full half inch gap across the top. I realized “Phil” was probably a whole family of geckos freely roaming at night, and I wondered if I would ever sleep again. 

All the while I am observing my reaction, noting how intense it feels and also trying to overcome that with pure reason. I have seen worse, truly. I have lived worse. I have faced things far more threatening to my wellbeing. But none of this lessened what I was facing in the moment. I did pray, I did ask God to please tell His creatures to leave me alone. I did ask for help.

But I didn't have a solution that made sense, and I was just overwhelmed and honestly felt like I was fighting a losing battle.

Keep in mind, I am in a foreign country, with limited resources - and where complaining about a gecko is laughable. This is normal here. And truly I have been in worse environments - my reaction was surprising me too. 

But it was at this point of desperation something changed.

The next morning I went to work, and there sitting on my desk - the empty unoccupied office I was using for my month long stay - there was a brand new shiny roll of duct tape. I had not seen it before that day.

A gift from Heaven.

I thought, “God sees me”. I have no idea how long it had been on that desk, but I took it to admin and asked if I could use it “Sure, take it!” Apparently another temporary staff member had requested it and left it there. So yes, it was there just for me. 

I effectively patched up the incredibly wide gap above the door, the wide gap below the door and felt confident that this was no longer an entry way for the little gecko family. 

So did I sleep well that night? Well not as good as you might think. My body was still hyper vigilant, my eyes kept scanning the walls.

I wasn't confident the fix had worked.

Feeling grateful and knowing God had gifted me just what I needed, hadn’t yet brought me full peace. I was not confident it had worked. I was still trying to monitor and control.

I shared my joy of finding the duct tape with a friend, and he offered some words that resonated “...it makes me think that God can provide the means to silence the voices… or the sounds keeping you from rest in Him. He desires for us to have peace. I think there is a literal help in this but also a spiritual reminder He is showing you”.

These words immediately connected to what I knew God had been trying to speak to me. I was finally calm enough to start listening. This might sound like over spiritualizing, being dramatic, or even silly - you can laugh - I am definitely laughing! It is all of that, but still real that God was caring for me AND teaching me something powerful about how He works.

It really sunk in when I was up in the middle of the night AGAIN, with my flashlight scanning the walls to see if the duct tape was indeed working. I paused long enough to catch myself - and then I just laughed out loud. Look at me, acting like a lunatic! When will it be enough? This is what fear will do to us.

God had provided the means, I had received it, applied it – but I STILL kept feverishly checking to see if it was working. 

Unfortunately this sounds all too familiar to how I can operate spiritually. God provides the means for freedom, victory, healing - I receive it, apply it - but then constantly doubt that it is working. Did He mean it? Will it happen? Is it done? Am I really free? I easily fixate on the wrong thing.

Just as I did not achieve any solution by running around my house in the dark with a flashlight, we do not experience the grace of God by constantly checking if it is enough.

As I began to absorb what God was showing me, I have been leaning into faith - practically and spiritually. I have successfully patched up all the holes with duct tape, and since then have experience no noise or critters in my room at night. BUT, occasionally when the lights are out and I am drifting off to sleep, my body has the urge to wake up and scan the walls to be sure. But now that I see what’s happening, I am choosing to receive God’s provision and solution as enough — I lean back, take a breath, and thank God for peace and rest.

When we receive God’s provision or He gives us a promise - we experience it by leaning on it by faith.

Peace does not come by being in control, or by constantly monitoring if He is going to come through or not. I believe God provided duct tape for me because He cares. He wants to give us all that we need to experience rest and fullness. He cared about what was disrupting my sleep, just like He cares about the pain or trials we also face - the rejection pain, the fear of failure, the worry, or the grief or loss. The things in our bodies that need healing, or the hurt in our souls crying out for comfort. He cares about what is distressing us, and He is so ready to bring to us what we need to be healed, to be set free, to have true rest.

If we don’t trust the solution, we miss out on what is being provided.

When He speaks, when He moves, when He heals, when He frees — we get step into it as a reality, by faith. Leaning back and trusting the provision. If we go around in our lives with a flashlight making sure what He’s done is gonna stick, we will miss out on the best sleep of our lives :D