SLOWING TO PONDER | BELIEVE IN THE PROMISES OF GOD

The past eight months have been about finding our feet as a family after moving to a new city back in October. The past four have been about trying to find solid ground in this new normal we all face. I hope you’ve found solid ground, many days I wonder if I have. For me, it’s been very helpful for my physical, mental and spiritual health to be outdoors in our garden: sowing, growing, and seeing nature’s daily changes. Days with time spent outside are better.

The reflection that follows comes from the garden. During the final week of June, froglets began emerging from our pond. Our family (kids aged 2 and 6) have been tadpole watchers since they emerged from the spawn their parents left back in late January. From the tiniest wriggling specks, through giant tadpole heads with tails, we cheered when we spotted one with back legs a few weeks ago.

We were slightly surprised when they were finally ready to emerge and hop about, they hid for their final transformation. They are tiny little things, about 1cm long. Completely and perfectly formed little frogs, teeny eyes, little webbed feet, extraordinary hopping distance with so many different colors and patterns. They clamber out of the water, the only home they’ve ever known; to then climb pretty much vertically up and out into the complete unknown, sure there is more to life out there.

Some choose a foolishly difficult, nearly vertical way up and we giggle as they tumble back into the duckweed with the tiniest of splashes. Due to our house being nestled into a hillside, much of the garden is terraced. Hip and knee height walls hold back the hillside, creating a giant staircase. There is but one proper staircase up towards the top, the plant beds, and a way out of our otherwise walled garden.

Quite a few of the froglets hop in the easier direction: towards the wide-open space of the patio. Nice and flat, with tiny crevices between the tiles. Probably pretty great to get started but not a healthy and safe habitat in the long run. After a few attempts, the nearly 7-year-old has mastered how to catch them by cornering them and letting them hop into her hand, gently covering them with the other hand so they can’t escape. She swiftly walks them up the stairs to deposit them where there is plentiful food and they are less likely to be trodden on. Between us, we’ve probably moved 100 of them or so.

It’s struck me that even so tiny, these froglets have personalities. Some are keen to hop off the elevator hand the moment it’s opened; others just sit there for a few moments, surveying the landscape to decide whether it’s safe and a few even require a prod to get going; a couple leaves poop as a thank you and a very few decide to climb the hand up towards the arm to have a closer look.

The first ones spot the tiniest of gaps between fingers and squirm and wiggle until they squeeze out and hurl themselves into the air out of the tiny cave they were in, plummeting to the ground. They all miraculously seem fine after landing, but I find myself exclaiming: “oh you struggling creature, I’m trying to HELP you!” These tiny froglets have made me wonder: which one am I most like? When this thing that momentarily darkened my life retreats and I find myself in a different place, what do I do/ what did I do?

Do I run away from that experience as fast as possible? Never looking back? Or do I take the time to observe from a safe distance? Do I sit there blinking, immobile, while my eyes re-adjust to the bright light? Do I climb up to have a closer look at my “elevator”? Do I wander off pretending nothing at all noteworthy has happened?

I don’t think any one of these is either right or wrong; how and when to reflect on any situation will be dependent on what happened and your personality. I do, however, think we should, at some point stop and reflect on what happened and how we got to where we are.

Hopefully, with some reflection, we might see that there was someone there carrying us and saying: “oh my child, I’m trying to HELP you!” “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?” Matthew 6:26-27.

I emphasize that slowing to ponder is very important. Let us lay down our worries and take time to reflect to see how our heavenly Father cares for us during the times when it is all dark and confusing. Know that you are SO precious to God.

Blessings,

Christina