Clinging to Life

I went to the grocery today and, when I came out, there was this thing on my door handle. You won’t believe me, but I was too freaked out to snap a picture of it. I’m not an entomologist, but it was a cross between a moth, a seahorse, and a praying mantis. I kid you not.

I did what any rational adult would do and first I admonished it. “Go on. Get off!” I yelled in the Publix parking lot at my door. It just sat there. I mustered up the nerve to try to blow it off the handle and it just smiled back. After a few moments of standing in the lot beside my car, yelling at the driver’s door and alternating between looking disgusted and verbally abusing this thing, I did the second most rational thing an adult would do. I walked around, entered from the passenger door, and climbed over into the driver’s seat. In a dress. Suffice it to say, I don’t like bugs.

Unless they’re the occasional wasp or stink bug, I regularly employ the “catch and release” method of dealing with bugs who invade my territory. Oh, and all bets are off when it comes to spiders. But otherwise, I’m quite empathetic and humane and figure I wasn’t the One who gave them life so who am I to take it?

As I drove off, I kept one eye on the road ahead and one down at my door handle where I could see his little wing flapping in the breeze. “Just let go, guy,” I willed from the safety of the car’s interior. “Come on, this looks like a nice area. Fly away.”

I so desperately wanted him gone, that I went down a side street I knew would be deserted so that I could accelerate up to 45 or 50 miles per hour and, hopefully, leave him behind. It worked. Man, he put up a good fight, and towards the end, it actually looked like he was holding on with three of his hands and waving good-bye with the other. Ultimately, though, he was blown from my door and, in my mind, met up with some kinfolk, some other praying seamoths, in this little neighborhood I zipped through. At least, that’s what is going to help me sleep tonight.

As I drove home, though, it occurred to me, aren’t we all like this little guy at different times in our life? We think we’re safe. We think our feet are planted on terra firma, and then the proverbial rug is pulled out from under us. We find ourselves in the midst of a storm and all we know to do is hold on. And when we can’t hold on any longer, then what? We let go. It’s kind of our only choice. But even in the act of letting go, is it not possible to cling to the one thing we’ll always have...hope? Hope for a better tomorrow. Hope that we meet up with some friendly faces, even if they have transparent bodies and huge wings and a nose. (I swear it had a nose.)

My soul clings to You; Your right hand upholds me.Psalm 63:8

But you are to cling to the LORD your God, as you have done to this day.
Joshua 23:8

You shall follow the LORD your God and fear Him; and you shall keep His commandments, listen to His voice, serve Him, and cling to Him.
Deuteronomy 13:4

Curious Pandora accidentally released all the evils into
the world, closing the lid to trap only Hope.