We have an abundance of little green frogs up on our ridge—which in and of itself is amazing—we are quite far from any water source. Yet, there they are—hiding under my large round thermometer, hiding under a small plaque by my door, and hiding in plastic drawers where my husband keeps his shop supplies in the garage. But yesterday, much to my horror, as I was coming back into my house, there was a frog dangling at the top of the door, its leg caught in the closed door. It was a bit shocking. Here he was, hanging there, looking rather dead, and all I could think was: what a horrible way to die…hanging there, slowly drying out and no way to get free.
I then opened the door and down to the ground he fell and then he hopped! He wasn’t dead—merely entangled (though in quite an inconvenient way!) and then what did this frog go and do? He hopped right back at the door as I was opening it, and I said, “No! This is not safe for you!” and redirected him to go the opposite way…away from the danger of my front door, and perhaps from a more hideous fate—being smashed in the door as I closed it.
Then that Scripture flashed into my head about the sin that so “easily tangles” us and how this small frog illustrated that beautifully. The door seemed so inviting—a large wondrous expanse to crawl up. Then, unexpectedly (to the frog at least—we know what doors are for!) it opened and while the motion wasn’t a problem (frogs can stay adhered to a surface quite well) the door closed, and the frog’s leg was utterly caught, with no way to get out. Unless…someone came along (in time, I might add) and opened the door! The days are hot and a small amphibian hanging in hot air stands a small chance of survival.
There’s the Christian life illustrated beautifully in the life of a small frog: the door of sin seems so inviting, so wide and appeals to our sense of, hey! I can handle this! We stick to it, for at first a little motion (guilt) here and there really doesn’t cause us to let go and move on…we get used to those twinges of conscience because hey! I can handle this!
Then the day comes (and it will) when our leg gets caught in the door, and we cannot get out on our own. We hang there and the hot wind reminds us that we have made a poor choice, and we are gazing down on the very thing we thought we could handle: the sin, the door, is now a trap, one possibly fatal to us and one that is certainly fatal to our soul.
Jesus opens the door, and down we go. Instead of hopping away from the door of sin, where do we go? Right back at it! Repentance is defined as a utter change of direction, and that means, in frog terms, HOP AWAY FROM THE DOOR! Jesus came to rescue us from sin and death, and we, as grateful little frogs, need to reside where it is safe, and not where we could be smashed at any time.
I will keep my eyes out for that frog—just as Jesus watches out for us. But we have choices to make, and where we “hop” will determine the kind of life we live. Sin can entangle us, preventing us from running the race He has set out for us, and thus the blessings He would bestow on us. I would like to be acting as a “good and faithful servant” when He returns, not hanging by my leg, caught in sin’s door, and looking rather dried out.
Heavenly Father: You do all things well, including warning us of not only sin’s allure, but its dangerous results. You warn us not to steal our joy, but to remind us that sin will not only steal our joy but ultimately destroy in the long run. That little frog survived because of my small grace—how much more will I live because of Your great grace. Amen.