November 07, 2007
Ladybug
Last winter I found a Ladybug on the kitchen floor and I really didn’t know what to do with her. Temperatures were well below freezing for over a week so who knows where she came from. I wanted to send her on her way, “Ladybug, Ladybug fly away home…”, but if I put her outside she’d be freeze dried before she got home. I had no inviting habitat to offer since my green thumb is limited to glass flowers and dry pussy willows. The only thing I could offer was the trash compactor. I reasoned she might be happy crawling around in there if she could avoid being squashed when someone turned on the compactor. Then maybe, just maybe, the weather would warm up before the next time the trash had to go out. Believers aren’t immune from being in the wrong place at the wrong time either. I think the Lord spends a lot of time trying to put some of us in places where we won’t get squashed.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Gail;
-----Oh! Gail! How I relate to that. In fact, my whole life has been the lady bug in your kitchen. Sometimes when things are tough on me, or I am behaving more idiotic than usual, I will lay in bed and say to God, “OK, then OK! If you created me to squash me, not of Your cause, mind You, but of mine, then squash me! Squash me! And laugh aloud at the entertainment, for the pleasure rightfully is all Yours. Because if that is what You created me for, then I will enjoy it simply for that reason.” It tends to relax me, because in it is the full confession that I am the ladybug who flew into trouble and lit upon the floor, all by my own choosing. In my commitment to take pleasure in the squashing is total resignation to His will. Even if I am unable to do anything else right at all, nothing, nothing, nothing right, I still can and will choose to take pleasure in His pleasure. Even if that is the last passive act I can perform, I will. But in the “if” is the humble acknowledgement of His mercy, and yes, the request for it. My next breathe acknowledges that I have it. And with it comes hope. The same hope you found for the wayward ladybug. Sleep generally comes next.
Post a Comment