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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.
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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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