Frogs, Part Deux

2:54am

It is not far too unusual to be awakened in the middle of the night (early morning). It has happened to me for years. As something almost like unto a spiritual ritual, at times I receive these "promptings" long before the sun rises from its transversed orbital slumber. It is a call to get out of bed and find the One thing calling me out of my sleepy state.

Far too often, I've been encountered in ways that are much more valuable than sleep, so when the prompting arises, I typically heed the call. This morning was no exception.

The apparent destination was the back patio. Didn't know why I was being called there in particular, but I was. Rain has been consistently falling since midnight, flashes of lightning and peels of thunder rolling in the distance. On the patio, things are peaceful and still. Seeing the evening's work of those pesky (and somewhat messy) spiders refracting light from a distant source. The frogs are quiet tonight. All is quite still save the droplets of rain falling gently all around.

You know when you have that feeling you're being watched? I've had that sensation several times through the years, especially in these earliest of morning calls... but typically the presence of the "watcher" is from somewhere "above." This morning, the watching didn't seem closer in proximity, just different in vantage point. This watcher was close and just behind me rather than from "above."

Pulling up a patio chair from the table and simply awaiting any word from my Inviter, I sat still, enjoying one of the coolest night's in many, many weeks. Several minutes passed... then tens of minutes... and still nothing. Being very aware of the presence of Senor Mosquito... as I am something akin to Filet Mignon to that member of the blood-sucking predator family... I was beginning to wonder about tonight's call.

Thinking a spot on the patio floor was another arachnid who had turned attention away from web building to human inspecting, I quickly went to turn on the patio light. Humorously finding the impending "spidy" to merely be a "spotty" on the patio floor, I turned to go flip the light back off. That's when the sense of my being watched became abundantly present to my awareness.

Enter "Kermit" the tree frog.

He'd been enjoying a "frog's eye view" of me since I arriving. There, suctioned onto the window just above my left shoulder, was the coolest looking guy... making his way toward one of those more juicy spiders (more power to him on that menu choice -- dine away, my friend -- one less for me to deal with!!!).

The view audience changing roles, he became the viewee now, while I the viewer.

What an amazing creature! How I wish I could just hang on a plane of glass by my toes (think of the party entertainment that would be!). Throat "clucking" about twice per second, eyes blinking, legs stretching while making his way higher up the glass (and closer to the eight-legged main course in this earliest of breakfasts). What an amazing creature!

Though he made no noise, was this my early morning caller? I sat and watched... wondered... what is the message, Sir? Perhaps none other than mutual appreciation and a sense that we're both being watched by One who is responsible for us both being here. Regardless of the hour, the condition of the weather, whether hungry or full... there is One who is always aware... always watching... always providing... always caring...

Regardless of the time of day or night... there is One who loves us all and He may even wake you up in the middle of the night, just to let you know. Just be watchful for the messenger.

You, my friend, are deeply loved, all the way down to your suction-cupped toes.

Frog Praise

The rains have been heavy the past 24 hours or so and the frogs are singing a mighty chorus tonight.

The house where I live is situated in a place where we tend to have quite a few frogs during the spring and summer. The little critters have been especially plentiful this year, though we've not had a bunch of rain until the last couple of days. I am curious how these guys make it in the world. I far too frequently, for my comfort anyway (especially if I was one of them) find squashed and dried frog vestiges up and down our street. Not long ago, we had one smashed paper thin in our driveway and I began the inquiring as to which driver in our household was the accused. Turns out, it was a guest! Grace, extended.

I've always been a fan of frogs, though I've likely not been the best host to them. When I was a kid, growing up in Southern California, we had a significant population of really small frogs in our yard. I used to catch these little amphibians in pickle jars the Pop of the "mom and pop market" would give me (Midway Market was it's actual name... though I don't know from where-to-where it was midway) . I was careful to poke holes in the top of the jar and put stuff in there I thought the frogs would like to eat... a few ants, a piece of lettuce and whatever vegetables I thought I could coax off my dinner plate without my parents getting mad. Far too often, those little guys met the same fate as the old croaker in the driveway. I still mourn... slightly.

I've noticed the ones at my house now are a fairly stout breed. I was mowing a couple months ago and the grass was a bit higher than normal and I clipped one of my little friends (unwittingly, of course. I've made many a mowing detour to make peace with my four-legged friends). Everything was in tact in the palm-sized body, but there was a good gash on his head and the left "landing gear" was a bit afoul. Bummed... (I can't speak for how the frog felt, though I'm guessing no better than me), I helped him down to the pond. After the initial shock of getting whacked with a 21" Husqvarna 6.5 HP side-throw/mulcher, he was actually moving pretty good. I saw him to the waters edge and he (seemingly appreciatively) dove in. (I really hope it didn't sting too badly...).

Frogs, not the most beautiful dudes around (though allegedly finding company with a beautiful princess has dramatic affect) are nice to have around. The are great on fighting the insect pest population and have a great influence on a dog's saliva production when teased by the canine crowd (apparently no lasting problems here, but it's weird to watch your dog foam at the mouth for about 20 minutes after licking Mr. Toad -- great entertainment around our house, let me tell you).

The frog crowd doesn't always get the best press, either. Egypt, under Pharaoh, had a tough go of it with frogs when God chose to send a little message via the "rippit-ing" messengers. Eventually, Pharaoh summoned Moses to ask God to take the frogs away. Moses prayed and God relented... and a lot of frogs died that day, too (Exodus 8:1-15) and the smell was something to be reckoned with.

Tonight... they don't smell at my house. They are just croaking out a great symphony of frog noises. A while back, it was driving me a bit crazy hearing them every night and I've noticed they get even more actively loud after a good rain. So tonight it dawned on me that maybe that's when their most happy. Maybe after a good rain the bugs are plumper and their skin is a bit wetter and life is good in the pond! So... tonight I'm just a bit more at peace with the frogs... and now hearing their songs as a gesture of frog praise rather than an annoyance.

What nature sounds have you noticed lately? Want to share what you've heard?

We're listening... me and the frogs.

Pace

Arrogance to my previous understanding once meant only calling excessive attention to one's self. Self aggrandizing speech and behaviors were easy marks to see arrogance in myself and in others around me. Outright bragging, brazen attention mongering, excessive vocalizations, "bling" demonstrations and label consciousness were all living proof of arrogance running a muck in my life. Strangely enough, even dashes of false humility pulled aggressively at my flimsy disguise attempting to shield pride and selfish motive from a discerning eye all to no avail.

Humility is rarely well impersonated.

Something about growing older and either admitting freely (or having it forced upon you) that you're "not all that" anymore (or perhaps never were) is a sobering road to what we can hope is eventually true and honest humility. There was something about Jesus that was simply and naturally "humble." Though He would have every reason to call attention to Himself, He didn't. He directed attention to others, their needs, their desires and He served others to perfection (see Philippians 2:1-11).

In time, the sincere Christ-follower can't escape this quality in Jesus and begins leaving behind the trappings of earthly attention grabbing. Taking credit for the successes, stepping to the front of attention, sitting in the seat of honor, warming to the sound of one's own name (or voice) being favorably spoken all eventually lose their alluring charm in the presence of Jesus. It perhaps becomes a little easier to give up the choicest morsels of life for the sake of others, too, eventually in time. But there are always alluring ways true humility eludes us. One such way has recently surfaced in my own quest to be more like Jesus.

Currently my life is running at an incredible pace. If I chose to do so, I could literally work 23 hours a day and would still have something left to do at the end of each day! Many others with whom I currently serve are in similar positions. We are all busy and working hard, for a cause in which we firmly believe and hold dear, and there always seems to be more we could be doing. Herein lies the challenge to true humility.

Having run several weeks now with little time taken to lap up some good personal nourishment from God's word and having spent few moments (let alone hours) in the kind of prayer that truly listens more than it speaks, it dawned on me just how arrogant I have been behaving! Continuing to run at this pace, without quietly being in the presence of God makes a gross assumption of pride and arrogance!

Now, I've not necessarily resorted back to the old behaviors of calling attention to myself (though I do believe those temptations are never really very far away from my potential) but I have fallen into a cyclical trap of behaving as if I can actually thrive and serve well without spending quiet, reflective, restorative time at the feet of the One whom self-defined humility (that would be, Jesus).

Thinking (or behaving) as if we can do "anything" on our own as a Christ-follower... is arrogant.

In John 15:5, Jesus said His followers can't do anything (really worth anything) apart from Him. So what is it inside of me that would behave as if I could? Especially when I know better...I can only conclude it to be arrogance.

Though Jesus had every reason (and perhaps every opportunity) to rely upon self-sufficiency, He didn't. Mark's gospel records that "very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed" (1:35). The text also records that Simon and his companions came looking for Jesus and told Him, "Everyone is looking for you!" And Jesus took off in another direction... (1:36-37).

If "everyone were looking for me" (and I was sure they weren't all out to get me) I'd probably run toward them and be pleased my company was so requested! There is something destructively attractive about being "in the middle of it all," isn't there? Even Jesus didn't stay "in the middle of it all" all the time. He was very conscious of the pace of life.

I have about concluded that "pace" in life can be an addictive agent. We arrogant types become quite enamored with ringing cell phones, pinging calendar warnings and the sound of our excuses for why we were "a little late" to our 2:00 meeting. Pace is addictive (especially rapid pace apparently is) and when we succumb to it, we are taking ourselves much too seriously.

Every time I don't take time for God...I am arrogant.

I'm trying to gain a new grip on this latest expression of arrogance in my life. More recently, I've been trying to equate time in God's Word and time in serious "listening" prayer as important (if not more so) as breathe and food (because likely they are).

In recent years I've learn how to "pick up the pace" on my life and now I'm trying to "find the grace" of "being still and knowing..." (Psalm 46:10) ... I'm not "all that"... never was... never will be.

And you?