The Problem of Evil, but With Wings
Creation was called “very good”—so what happened to the mosquitoes? Let’s talk bugs, the Fall, and the God who governs every sting.
If you’ve ever stood outside in July—especially in a wet summer, especially near a lake, especially in a state where they joke about mosquitoes being the state bird—you’ve probably thought something like this:
“Why, Lord? Why these creatures? What purpose do these demonic sky-syringes serve in your good world?”
It’s one thing to have questions about the problem of evil in the abstract. But then you get bit seventy times while trying to set up a single gun position in the middle of Louisiana and suddenly this is the theodicy that matters most.
So let’s take it seriously—because, believe it or not, this ridiculous question opens a surprisingly helpful window into creation, fall, providence, and the way Christians make sense of life in a world that is good and also groaning.
First, Some Fun Facts You Didn’t Ask For
There are over 3,500 species of mosquitoes. That’s not a typo.
Only female mosquitoes bite, because they need the protein from blood to lay eggs.
Some mosquito species are pollinators. Seriously. They feed on nectar too.
Mosquitoes are considered the deadliest animal on earth—because of the diseases they spread.
If that last point made your theological spidey-sense tingle—good. Because it should.
Mosquitoes Were Not a Mistake
Genesis 1:24–25 says God created “every living creature that moves” and “God saw that it was good.” That includes creepy-crawlies. Bugs. Beasts. Flying things with too many legs. There’s no biblical category for creation that was just meh or “neutral but might become annoying later.” Everything was declared good.
So yes, mosquitoes were part of the original creation. But they didn’t bite Adam and Eve in the garden. They didn’t carry malaria. They didn’t swarm your ankles or cause dengue fever outbreaks. That’s all post-Fall business.
Which means two things:
Mosquitoes were created with a purpose—likely as pollinators or part of the broader ecosystem before corruption entered the world.
The bite, the disease, the menace—they’re part of the curse, not the design.
Just like childbirth was always part of God’s plan, but the pain in childbirth was part of the curse (Genesis 3:16), and work was always part of God’s design, but toil came after the Fall (Genesis 3:17–19)—so too, mosquitoes were created good, but their brokenness buzzes in our ears now.
But Seriously—Why Would God Let Them Stay?
This is where things get interesting. Because if God could wipe mosquitoes out of existence—and we assume He could—then why hasn’t He?
Let me offer three theological angles to help us sit with that question:
1. To Remind Us That This World Is Not Home
There’s something poetic about the way mosquito bites linger. You feel them long after the buzz is gone. They’re minor annoyances that get under your skin—literally.
And—because my friend Randy has a knack for tying everything back to Ecclesiastes—isn’t that a metaphor for all of life under the sun?
In the same way that weeds and thorns remind us that creation groans, mosquito bites remind us that our hope is not in a restored patio or a bug-free camping trip. We long for a better country. A new creation. A place where no creature—great or small—harms or destroys (Isaiah 11:9).
2. Because Providence Uses Pain for Prayer
If God’s providence is meticulous—and it is—then every mosquito bite is under His sovereign care. Not one rogue insect escapes His sovereignty. Which means sometimes those annoyances stir us toward awareness, dependence, and—hopefully—prayer.
You don’t have to like it. But you also don’t have to waste it.
The Puritans had a phrase for this: the sanctification of interruptions. They believed even the smallest frustrations could drive us back to God—if we let them.
So the next time you get bit on the back of your knee at sunset, try muttering, “Lord, make me long for the resurrection.”
3. To Humble Us in Our Wisdom
Modern science has eradicated smallpox, sequenced the human genome, and built telescopes that can see the edge of time. But we still struggle to stop a mosquito from biting our ankles in July.
It’s not that we’re dumb. It’s that we’re not God.
And maybe, just maybe, God leaves the mosquito in the world to remind us that no matter how sophisticated we become, we’re still fragile creatures dependent on grace.
Even if we’re wearing deet.
A Final Word: Grace for the Itchy
The next time you hear someone say, “When I get to heaven, I’m asking God why He made mosquitoes,” you can smile and say, “It’s a good question. But it’s also a window.”
A window into a world that was good, is broken, and will be made new.
Because in the new creation? The lion lies down with the lamb. The child plays with the cobra. And yes—I’m just guessing here, but—I don’t think the mosquitoes bite anymore.
That’s not just poetic. It’s hope.
And it’s better than bug spray.
P.S.
This Friday, we’re diving into one of the most important inventions in church history: the printing press. Spoiler: It’s not just about Gutenberg—it’s about how God used ink, paper, and mass communication to change the world.