The Way God Gets My Attention + A Promise

In August last year, my family experienced several health scares. Though it’s one of the warmest months and is typically filled with beach days, hikes, and picnics, we spent over half the month dealing with illness.

I went into the ER with chest pain and came home with a pleurisy diagnosis.

My younger siblings, Jedidiah and Lydia, were bedridden for over a week.

And then Enoch.

My littlest brother, Enoch, went to the ER with my Mum because he just wouldn’t get better. His breath rattled precariously in his chest. He was coughing incessantly. He had stopped eating.

It was on a Friday, my normal day off. The ER happened to be in my new hometown, so after Mum and Enoch were settled, my sisters and I delivered a little care package of food, Calvin & Hobbes comics for Enoch, and a Truly Co. Magazine for my Mum. We didn’t get to see Enoch and we barely had time to hand the little bag to Mum before she hurried back to Enoch’s side.

As we walked out the double doors, the air around us was punctuated with grief, people waiting, and the cloying smell of the hospital, I could feel my heart dropping. This was serious.

//

Last year, I read an article by Ashlee Gadd. She wrote about how, in a period of doubt, she kept noticing ladybugs showing up in the randomest of places.

In her kitchen.

In her bathroom.

In her bedroom.

The ladybugs reminded her of God and His persistent presence and goodness in her life. That God specializes in the impossible, but He also cares deeply about the minutia in our day-to-day lives. He shows up wherever we are, whatever we’re doing, however we feel. A little reminder to be still and pay attention.

That story impacted me. I wanted to trace God’s goodness in my regular life, too! I wanted to see what felt like a promise from the God who sees us!

//

Just before Enoch went to the ER, when my stress levels were peaking, Lars and I hopped out of the car after church. I glanced down. On one of the branches of a dying plant, I noticed a ladybug. Instantly, I remembered the article Ashlee had written.

Originally, I’d wanted to find my own unique item that reminded me of God, but seeing that ladybug there felt like a personalized gift. It sounded like a promise from God, “I am with you. I’ll meet you here.”

Here’s the thing about being human: we’re super quick to forget. Thankfully God knows our frame and remembers we are but dust. In meeting with us, He acknowledges all the weak parts we have and reminds us that in our weakness, He is still strong. I’m so glad that never changes!

//

After we delivered the care package to the hospital, my sisters and I returned to my home. I felt overwhelmed. And frustrated with my overwhelm. Shouldn’t I be over this by now? Shouldn’t I know how to trust God knows what He’s doing?

We sat on our front lawn, shell-shocked and unsure how to feel. It was one of the scariest moments of my life. I had so many unanswered questions. Somebody started praying aloud. And then I felt something crawling on the hand I’d pressed against the grass.

Threading their way through the yellowed blades, dozens and dozens of ladybugs danced around us. Reminder upon reminder that God was still here. In the unknowns. In the hard stuff. In the doubts, questions, and confusion. I will meet you here. You are not alone. You are not abandoned. I will never leave you nor forsake you.

I will meet you here.

As we stared, mesmerized by the little insects, my Mum called to let me know Enoch was being transferred to the city via ambulance.

“He has an acute case of pneumonia and needs to be hooked up to oxygen so he can keep breathing.” She said.

And somehow, despite the unknowns and stress of the moment, my sisters and I were flooded with an otherworldly sense of peace, knowing that no matter what, God would be with us.

Enoch got well. It took time, but eventually Mum was able to take him home. But that experience became tangible proof for me that God is with me always.

//

Since then, I’ve seen ladybugs in places I never expected to see them. I’ve seen them atop mountain peaks, in our home in the dead of winter, and even while playing games with my goddaughter.

Each ladybug serves as a little reminder. A promise that I am not alone.

Ladybugs have become tiny ambassadors bearing a simple message: I will meet you here. Mundane moments become miraculous. Ordinary days become infused with the holiness of God’s presence. And not just because God sent a ladybug—but because He opened up my eyes to see that He was there with me all along. I just needed to look up and around to see Him and the myriad ways He tries to get our attention.

It’s crazy to me that God will use miscellaneous things to catch our gaze. Things like ladybugs, that seem common at first glance. But how can anything that recenters our focus on our Savior be common? The earth is the Lord’s and everything in it, as Psalms so boldly declares. Doesn’t it stand to reason that God would bless us with tiny little reminders of His presence through the things—or creatures—He has created?

Now, every time I see a ladybug, I snap a photo and store it in an album on my phone called simply faithfulness. It gives me visual evidence of God’s faithfulness so when days are dark, I can trace God’s past faithfulness to encourage my heart that He will be true to His word again.

Let this be your reminder, friend. God will meet you here. In fact, He’s already here with you. Whatever you’re stepping into this new day with, He is enough. You are loved. And He is here with you.