It started out much like a court session. Or what I assume court sessions are like from my extensive experience watching them on movies.
“All arise. The honorable Judge presiding.”
“This court is now in session.”
“Will the plaintiff (That’s me.) please arise and state her case.”
So, I pretended to stand (Pretending was my safest bet since I was driving.) and stated my case. It was quite a good case too. All about how unfair it is for this world to be so beautiful, so lost, with so many opportunities for doing good, and why don’t I seem to fit in anywhere? I’m piece 101 in a hundred piece puzzle. The chocolate chip cookie when everyone’s full on ice cream and cake. Superfluousity. And while we’re at it, why is the sky blue? What makes it blue instead of something else? And why, if air is clear, can’t we see the stars while the sun is shining? And why, if we are all born with a purpose, can’t I find mine? Is it hiding under the couch? What is the meaning of life? I felt just like Solomon. Spouting off bits of wisdom that would make great Chinese proverbs if only I were Chinese. Maybe he could be the wisest man in the world, and I could be the wisest woman.
And then God spoke.
A bug splooshed against my arm. (For those of you who don’t know, a sploosh is something between a squelch and a splosh. I’m sure all mothers know exactly what I’m talking about.) Bug juice went everywhere. There was a nice slimy trail up my arm and little dabs on my thumb.
One-arm-out-the-window drivers, take warning.
“This court is now adjourned.”
It’s rather hard to state your case about the unfairness of life with bug juice splattered on your arm. It’s even harder to stay mad at the Judge who splattered you.
So, what did I do once I’d stopped case-stating? I laughed. All because some poor bug gave up his juice all over my arm just to get God’s point across. Did that bug think his life was superfluous?
I was driving to work. I looked at my arm, considering whether or not I could get away with leaving the bug juice on. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wash it off. It’s reminding me of God.”
That might not have gone over very well. I’ll never know. I didn’t try.
I still have my job.
So, what have I learned? Hm. I’m not entirely sure.
Moral #1: Roll up the window. Turn on the air conditioning. Save a bug’s life.
Moral #2: Never attempt to take your car into court.
Moral #3: When God says, “You are so small. When I look at you, I need a magnifying glass. Or I would if My eyesight wasn’t so good. Why do you want to be bigger than I made you?” - listen well. He’s got plenty of bug juice to back Him up.
