The Biggest Leap of All: An Angel Message

Now that my sight is fully restored, what joy to see colors sparkle and gleam in the sunshine.  This morning brown clay flowerpots are filled with red petunias in celebration of spring.  Snowy white petunias intermingle with the red velvety petals, as they share a new home.  A large terracotta Aztec  pot is also residence for a tribe of ruby red geraniums. 

I know geraniums don’t like to get their leaves wet; like proper coiffed ladies, the last thing they want is to mist up their look.  Unlike most flowers that enjoy a gentle garden spray to cool off on a hot summer's day, geraniums want the soil soaked, not them.  Flowers are like people, they have their personal quirks, and let us know their reactions.

Now, I have a gardening dilemma:  To love, and let all be as it is,  or to intervene, believing that I am in control? 

Do I really understand the inner workings of nature?  

A rather large brood of nymph lubber grasshoppers is stirring my conscience.

 Yesterday they were enjoying a feast on my white irises.  Then, when politely asked to leave, they obliged by moving to the tall lilies, a plant of forgiveness.   This morning, these uninvited guests are having brunch on the purple closed blooms of my dear spiderworts.

I can see the lesson is perfect.  I have drawn this to me as I had written and pictured an adult lubber grasshopper in Spiritual Lessons from Nature.  The star featured lubber had struck an unusual pose on an ornamental astrolabe.  Purposefully, he seemed to aim the arrow for the stars. Florida lubbers are slow moving and can't take the leaps that other grasshoppers can. 

Remember, of course,

the song of the grasshopper, as well as the ant or bee—

but know in Whom ye have believed.  For He,

the Giver of all good and perfect gifts,

has given these—the handiwork of His creation—

as a pattern or example or lesson, that ye—too—may learn.

--Edgar Cayce reading 1965-1

The bejeweled 3-inch grasshopper that year seemed to be a celestial messenger having arrived after a rare lunar and solar event.  Do I really know the meaning of anything?

Now doubt creeps in.  That was six years ago, with only a rare sighting or two.  This spring the picture has changed.  A multitude of little black grasshoppers, with orange racing stripes, are speeding through our meditation garden munching their way into adulthood.  

Grasshoppers represent a giant leap forward.  They never jump backwards.  And with all the major shifts and earth changes in the world today, we as humans are being transformed.  It is Easter week, a time to rejoice, a time to love.  If all things work together for good except in my ego’s judgment, what does this soiree symbolize in the garden?  A chance to choose peace? 

I want to learn the lesson, but don’t I need to know what it is first?

I stopped writing and took time out for breakfast, a bowl of warm oatmeal with fresh blueberries, cinnamon and honey in the garden at the umbrella table. Instead of the rainy forecast, the morning is cool, sunny with a soft breeze.  A picture perfect day.  

Later while watering the flowers, I gently sprayed the little grasshoppers as they clustered together on a long lily leaf, asking them to please leave.  They scampered off, but soon something unusual caught my eye.  

A pale baby treefrog, no bigger than a quarter, clung to a wide dampened green lily frond.  He stared up at me with unblinking eyes as he rested on the leaf in the sunlight.  I spoke softly to the little fellow, surprised he was out in the open, but perhaps he was thirsty. 

As we looked each other in the eye, I suddenly realized I had my answer. The acronym for FROG:  (F)ully (R)ely (O)n (G)od.  

Thanks for the reminder, I smiled.  

Before I could get a picture, he leaped out of sight.  But the message gave me peace.  Let go and let God.  

Isn't that the biggest leap of all?

Enjoy your day with the Angels.

Love and joyful blessings,

Rae Karen