As a mom, I seem to pick up a lot of odd jobs around our house.
I am a secretary to my technology challenged husband who believes that to “google” something is a violation of the ten commandments–thou shalt not google thy neighbor’s wife.
I am also a why guru.
I can tell you why the sky is blue instead of purple.
I can tell you why Batman and Spiderman do not hang out on weekends–that I know of at least.
I can also tell you why after three hours on the job I am banging my head against a brick wall.
Last week I got another side job: I am the reluctant caregiver of caterpillars.
These fuzzy little leg-clad creatures were very proudly collected by my five year old who decided that he wanted to study metamorphosis.
I am pretty sure that one smiled at me on Tuesday when I gave it a dandelion, but maybe that was just me since I’m an approval seeker and all.
However, here is something about caterpillars you probably don’t know (and maybe don’t want to know): they eat a lot and they poop a lot.
Therefore their home is in constant need of more leaves to eat and always needs cleaning out, both of which immediately became my job.
I have to admit, though, I became sort of attached to them.
When I was asked to speak at the first one’s funeral I was quite honored.
The second one’s funeral, however, I was not asked to speak and found a notable suspicion in my children’s attitude as I offered condolences at the body viewing.
By the time the third funeral rolled around, I was outright accused of murder.
Actually, I don’t blame them, as I am not completely convinced of my own innocence since I have no prior caterpillar experience.
Oddly enough, though, I was never fired from being the caretaker of the two that remain.
They seem to be in fine health thus far.
When my kids drag these little critters around, it always makes me think about how thankful I am that God didn’t make me one of those critters.
This thought process kind of put me on a whole new path of thankfulness when I really started thinking about it.
I have always been thankful for what I thought to be the little things in life: my family, my home, my health. Of course these are wonderful gifts that we should thank God for daily, but suddenly I realized that thankfulness needs to go back to the basics.
We have to narrow our mind to the very basics of what we are, a creation of God. Thankfulness truly begins at the realization that God was not in any way obligated to create life.
We owe over very existence to this fact.
He could have created emotional zombies. Instead He created us as passionate creatures, capable of love and hate, joy and sadness, and pleasure and pain.
Without all these emotions life would not be worth living, but here’s the thing: God was not obligated to make our life worth living.
He did that because He wanted to, not because we deserved it.
We are His creation, and our destiny was His to create whether it was one we liked or one we didn’t like.
He could chained us up and made us answer to His every whim, but instead He wanted us to willingly serve without a cracking whip.
Not only did He decide to create humans, he decided to make you and I humans.
He could have made us bugs. You could have been that poor unfortunate caterpillar who died in the hands of an inexperienced caretaker.
Of course, I am not confessing to anything.