My husband and I were on our patio last night, watching the kittens that live there, protected from possums and other dangers (and themselves) by a 1 1/2 foot tall plywood pen. I happened to notice a beetle who was trying to climb the plywood wall of the kitten's nursery.
From a beetle's point view, that wall must have been monumental. But here he was, 3/4's of the way up, the embodiment of tenacity. And then he fell. Right on his back. Legs flailing, absolutely stuck. He eventually made it to his feet and headed straight back to that wall. I remarked about it to my husband and he said he had been watching, too. This was already the beetle's 3rd attempt to climb the wall.
Why? I wondered. He doesn't know what's over there. What drives that beetle to keep doing a task that must seem impossible?
Almost to the top this time, the beetle fell again, again landing on his back and again flipped over and went right back to the wall. He only made it 1/2 way this time and was back on the ground.
It looked like he'd had enough. Turning 90 degrees, he continued on across the porch.
Why did he try so hard and then stop? What makes him recognize that this was a battle he wasn't going to win and choose a different path.
I would really like to know, because I feel like the beetle; trying to proceed on a course that offers no encouragement, nothing but resistance. How much is Godly persistence and how much is foolish stubbornness? When do you say,"Time to try something different"?
