It was a day to relax, mostly.
Reclining on the beach with friends, I looked out toward the water.
There was peace.
The steady, yet calm roar of the waves never ceased.
Then, I saw it!
What was that?
My friends hadn’t noticed, but I peered more closely toward the water.
Something jumped a couple of feet above the sand and flopped back down.
It did it again!
Could a jellyfish do that?
Ever curious, I got out of my luxury lawn chair, complete with a built in neck pillow, cup holder and supply bag and started walking toward the object in question.
As I grew closer, I realized what it was.
A TREE FROG!
He had his arms tucked under him as he sat still in my presence.
Along with sunglasses and sunscreen, I had decided to bring my camera to the beach.
It was time to take a few photos before embarking on the task of getting the little creature back to a more hospitable environment.
One of my friends had a ball cap on, which came in very handy when trying to catch a hopping frog.
When she had him secured, she walked to the nearest area of palm trees and other foliage to let him go.
The adventure complete, we settled back into our chairs, basking in the sun and the mist of the sea.
Still, I couldn’t help but wonder….how did that frog get to the beach?
After some thought, I decided that he could have hopped into someone’s fishing supplies.
Maybe in a garage miles away, an unsuspecting sportsman picked up a bucket or bag, placed it into their truck and transported it with the tiny, green stowaway on board.
How he got there was not really the important thing, however.
Getting him back to a safe place was.
People do this all the time, you know.
Surroundings look interesting and relatively safe, like a bag or bucket with fisherman’s gear.
We crawl in, feeling quite accomplished.
Before we know it, we decide it’s time to hop out, but when we do, things have changed.
Tall, leafy trees and damp, green grass have been replaced by salt water and burning hot sand as far as the eye can see.
In a panic, we jump high into the air, not realizing that doing so alerts predators to our presence in an unforgiving and hostile place.
Even so, God is watching.
He knows where we are when we ourselves do not.
He knows the danger when we venture into the bag.
He watches us as we are filled with fear when we see where our decisions have taken us.
He knows we can’t live in the salty waves.
When we hop frantically on the shore, He can pick us up and take us to a place—
a safe place we can call home.
God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging.