The cords of death encompassed me, and the torrents of ungodliness terrified me.
I see the same frog at least two or three times a week. I haven’t quite figured out what he’s doing though. If there’s been a day of steady rain, chances are I’ll see him in the landing area of the stairs heading up to my apartment. Most of our encounters have been at night after I get off work. He doesn’t know what I look like though. He just sits, intently gazing into the corner of the pale gray walls. I’ve often wondered if he’s even aware the walls exist. They resemble the concrete. I can imagine them blending together into some large hazy blur.
I saw him tonight. He’s obviously lost again. I pity him. He can’t help the fact that his brain is only 2 cm long and weighs but a tenth of a gram. I’d die to know what he was thinking. “This looks strangely familiar.” Or, “Haven’t I been here before? How’d I get out of here last time?” Who knows, maybe I’m thinking too much myself.
I know how he feels though. I’m sure you do too. “How’d I get here again?” Or, “I swore I would never take the path that led to this again.” And yet, I do. I constantly find myself in the same corner of sin. Dumbfounded and helpless. I try to think my way out. It’s pointless though. I can’t do it alone.
Back to the frog: I’ve often thought, “If only he would turn around and discover how close he is to freedom.” But he never does. So, tonight I picked him up and placed him in a flowerbed facing the correct direction. He quickly hopped off, not even stopping to show his gratitude.
I think I understand my own helplessness much better now. Some things, some sins to be honest, are just too much for me. I know my eyes should have never left the Lord in the first place, but they did. And now I stare helplessly into confusion. I never stare long though. For some reason, by some act of grace that’s almost too great to comprehend, God reaches down out of heaven and pulls me once again from the torrents of ungodliness that so greatly terrify me. I have nothing but gratitude for His doing so. And yet, I’ll hop off on my way, only to need another act of grace tomorrow.