Deborah Anderson

In 2000, Deborah Anderson left the medical field to care for her elderly mother. Soon after, she began writing. Her articles have appeared in Cross Times, Focus on the Family, Sisters in the Lord, Riders and Reapers, Rainbow Faith, FaithWriters’ Books, FaithWriters’ Magazine, and the bulletins for Dayspring Foursquare Church. She is a member of TWV, ACFW, CWG, and FCW and is currently working on her first novel. Married 29 years, Deborah and her husband enjoy country living in the Midwest. She also spends her time rescuing cats, reading novels, and taking nature walks. You can contact Deborah at DAnderson955 [at] aol [dot] com.

The Little Black Bug

Have you ever heard from God—through a bug? And then been inspired to write about it?

Crazy, isn’t it?

Well, it happened to me four years ago. I didn’t know why at the time, but I wrote the story anyway, filing it away for a rainy day.

Lucky you. I believe the rainy day has come, especially with a new year upon us, so I’m sharing it now. Not only that, many of you, my fellow writers, have been facing trials, discouragement, and so much more, so I believe that’s why God brought this story back to my mind.

Anyway, a few years ago, my husband and I were sitting on our deck when I first saw the little fellow. He lay flat on his back, his legs pointed upward, rotating like miniature, automated pot scrubbers. I’ve always heard that once a bug ends up on its back, it’s as good as dead. Call me a “sap,” but even I can’t stand to see a bug suffer.

I reached down and gently flipped the insect over with the tip of my fingernail. “Go on, buddy.”

At first, my new friend appeared disoriented. It took a few steps but rolled over onto its back.

“No,” I said, “you have to move.”

My husband chuckled. “Oh, brother.”

I pulled my arm up and waved my hand in the air. “What?” I narrowed my beady brown eyes. This was a serious matter. How dare he joke at a time like this?

“I'm sorry, honey. It’s just that you amaze me. You are so tenderhearted.”

“Well, I can’t help it.” I pointed at the bug. “Look at him. I can’t leave it here to die like this.”

Even though I made a stand on behalf of the bug, I felt somewhat of a hypocrite. For example, if said bug would have been a black-widow spider lying on its back, my foot may have squashed it like, well, a bug.

My eyes shifted back toward my new friend. Again, I reached down and flicked it over with the tip of my nail. Just as before, it began to walk forward. This time, though, instead of falling back over onto its back, it stopped. I watched intently, waiting for it to take control of its life. How hard could it be? I didn’t understand. All it had to do was crawl.

Finally, after a few minutes had passed, the little guy quickly took off.

A feeling of satisfaction swelled in my soul. I leaned back in my chair and resumed watching the rest of God’s creation.

Moments later, God began to speak to my heart.

He showed me how the storms of life have knocked many of us on our backs, and just like the little black bug, our spiritual arms and legs are flailing. Some of us are crying, “Why, God, why?” There are those of us who have given up and lost hope and feel like we can’t take one more step. No matter the reason, God is our refuge from the storm.

It’s not always easy, but if we let Him, God will set us back on our feet. Like the black bug, we might have trouble moving at first, feel disoriented, and even start out crawling. In time, however, our strength will return.

We will walk again.

All I know is that if God used me (with the tip of my fingernail, no less) to help a little black bug with its life, how much more will He do for His people?

Be encouraged, my fellow writers; your help is in the Lord.


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