LIBERATING THE FROGS
“He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire, he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth and a hymn of praise to our God.” Ps. 40:1-3

Frogs! Lots of them in the basement window well. One was sitting like a statue, staring longingly at the spider that reclined happily on its web on the inside of the glass. Stupid frogs! I said to myself as I went back upstairs to finish the dishes. Don’t they know they’ll die in that hole? Eventually when the bugs run out and there is no water. Don’t they know they are caught, imprisoned, captured and trapped? Stupid frogs.
Well, they were just frogs after all so I wasn’t going to worry about them. Let them take care of themselves. However, my mind wouldn’t let the frogs go. I kept thinking of it from their point of view.

Fiona Frog says, “Dear, maybe you should go out and catch a few flies for our dinner. Our supply seems to be getting low.”
Fred Frog answers, “If only I could get to that big juicy spider, but something seems to be blocking my tongue. Maybe I’ll try again. It looks so juicy and good just hanging there.”
SPLAT!
“Ahhh! Hard on de tongue!”
Fiona hops over to Fred, “Goodness sakes Fred, you’ve tried a hundred times to snatch that spider! It’s not going to work, can’t you figure that out! I’ve looked all around this joint and there isn’t one bug left to be found. I think we should take the kids and hop outta here. Move on. Find another pad, a lily pad would be nice.”
Fred keeps his buggy eyes on the contented spider, “Fiona, doncha know I’ve tried to hop out, there’s no way. We can’t leave, we’re trapped.”
“Trapped!” Fiona gasps, “You mean like, as in a fly trap! Stuck! Caught! What are we gonna do?”
Fred never takes his eyes off the reclining spider, “Don’t worry yourself now, Fiona dear, something will come up. This is such a nice cool place I’m sure food will come our way soon. Like this spider now, why any time he might get within reach. There he moved I’ll just—“ SPLAT!

“Okay! Okay! I’ll go help the frogs!” I threw down the dish cloth and searched for my gloves. After removing the window well cover, I looked into the hole and saw several pairs of beady eyes looking up at me.  So I don my gloves; after all these aren’t your cute, petite, green frogs, no these are toads, brownish, burly, bulgy, bumpy and so ugly they’re cute; and I begin scooping up frogs, big ones and little ones and depositing them into the flower bed where they can hop to freedom. They hop here and there in a panic and some even try to hop back into the hole. Stupid frogs, I say as I put the cover back on the window well.

Stupid frogs we might say, but aren’t we a lot like those frogs? We think we’re safe, in a nice place, getting along fine, but one day the last curtain falls, the shades are drawn, the death bell tolls, the bugs run out and we kick the bucket. Are we okay? Do we know Jesus? Is the Lord of the universe Lord of our lives? Do we fly to Glory or plunge into the lake of fire?
Do we sit staring at something we can’t ever hope to attain? Or if we do get it, there’s only a small morsel, a juicy bite that might hold us for a day but won’t carry us for eternity. Are we banking eternity on a fat spider on the other side of the glass?
Jesus is your Liberator. He will save your sins, heal your soul and give you eternity in His garden, if you ask Him into your life.

A week later I was in the basement and saw movement in the window well. The other one this time. Oh No! I thought, Not the frogs again! Sure enough closer examination revealed frogs. Lots of frogs once again in the window well. Captured, caught, trapped. Staring up at the light, climbing on the screen, staring at me pleadingly through the glass.
Stupid frogs. But aren’t I a lot like those frogs? Jesus sets me free and I jump right back into the hole. Maybe it’s a hole of sin or fear or worry. That’s my big one, worry and fear; fretting, stewing, not trusting, not relying on my God, but hoping around, vainly trying to jump out of the hole. When I can’t. But Jesus can.

This time I decide to let the frogs stew for awhile. No not frog legs! As John suggested. Or stewed toads. Gag a Rag! But let them figure out they are on a dead end road; in a paradise that is no garden of Eden; that their hideaway will turn into a cemetery. There’s grass so they have shade. There’s crickets so they have food. There’s dew so they have water. However one of these days the grass is going to whither, the crickets will run out, the dew will freeze, and the frogs will be, should I say, in a hole with no ladder. They’ll see that their life of ease was not such an easy street after all. Maybe they’ll be happy for the helping hand out of their hole and the garden to live in. Do ya think?
Probably not because the frogs are a lot like me, they don’t see beyond the spider on the other side of the glass.

So I waited a couple of days then I got the gloves again, and a bucket this time with a lid on it.  I scooped out toads again, but this time I put them in the bucket.  Then I carried them to the garden, a nice cool place with water and shelter and lots of bugs.  Bugs I hoped the toads would lap up hardly.  I dumped them in my garden, little toads, big toads and in between toads.  They hopped around finding leaves and vines to hide under.  As far as I know the toads are still in my garden, haven’t seen them back in the wheel well hole.

Jesus is my liberator! When I am worried about our country and the future, about finances, about health issues and growing old and my grandkid’s future I just hop into His hands. His capable hands can carry us all to safety in His garden.

“It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.” Gal. 5:1