The Frog in the Hole Poem
The Frog in the Hole — Devotional
By Staff
Very recently, Nathan (my 12 year old son) and I were in our back yard throwing Frisbee. He has gotten into Frisbee golf (disc golf) and was showing me some of the tosses he had learned. We were having a blast. During this fun time, Nathan walked over to a small sink-hole in the ground he had discovered a while back. The hole is about 5 inches in diameter and about 18 inches deep. Peering into the bottom of the hole, Nathan exclaimed, "The frog is still living in here!" He went on to share that he had seen the frog in the hole about a week earlier. He had concluded that this is where the frog had chosen to live.
That’s when it happened. I felt a wash go over me from the tip of my head to the bottom of my feet. I was smitten by a deep compassion. I knew the frog had not chosen to live in that hole. I remembered as a child the times we had dug holes to catch an old toad frog. I walked over to the hole and peered down in there for my own look. Sure enough, there he sat–an old brown toad. I explained to Nathan that the frog was in the hole and couldn’t get out. I shared that the ole toad may have deliberately gone in the hole after something he wanted, but once there, he discovered he couldn’t get out. The conversation continued:
"We’ve got to get him out!" I said.
Nathan replied, "You get him out; I’m not touching him."
"I will get him out," I quickly responded.
"Why?" Nathan asked.
I answered, "He can’t get out on his own, and I’m not leaving him in that hole. I know how it feels!"
I had connected with that old toad. Of course, the toad didn’t have a clue, but I had been infused with a new mission. I would do whatever it took to get him out of that hole. It did not matter in the least to me how he had gotten there. He could have accidentally fallen in. He could have chosen to hop off in the hole in the hope of finding a goodie to enjoy. He could have ran and hid there trying to escape something chasing him. He
By Staff
Very recently, Nathan (my 12 year old son) and I were in our back yard throwing Frisbee. He has gotten into Frisbee golf (disc golf) and was showing me some of the tosses he had learned. We were having a blast. During this fun time, Nathan walked over to a small sink-hole in the ground he had discovered a while back. The hole is about 5 inches in diameter and about 18 inches deep. Peering into the bottom of the hole, Nathan exclaimed, "The frog is still living in here!" He went on to share that he had seen the frog in the hole about a week earlier. He had concluded that this is where the frog had chosen to live.
That’s when it happened. I felt a wash go over me from the tip of my head to the bottom of my feet. I was smitten by a deep compassion. I knew the frog had not chosen to live in that hole. I remembered as a child the times we had dug holes to catch an old toad frog. I walked over to the hole and peered down in there for my own look. Sure enough, there he sat–an old brown toad. I explained to Nathan that the frog was in the hole and couldn’t get out. I shared that the ole toad may have deliberately gone in the hole after something he wanted, but once there, he discovered he couldn’t get out. The conversation continued:
"We’ve got to get him out!" I said.
Nathan replied, "You get him out; I’m not touching him."
"I will get him out," I quickly responded.
"Why?" Nathan asked.
I answered, "He can’t get out on his own, and I’m not leaving him in that hole. I know how it feels!"
I had connected with that old toad. Of course, the toad didn’t have a clue, but I had been infused with a new mission. I would do whatever it took to get him out of that hole. It did not matter in the least to me how he had gotten there. He could have accidentally fallen in. He could have chosen to hop off in the hole in the hope of finding a goodie to enjoy. He could have ran and hid there trying to escape something chasing him. He