God Didn’t Have to Make the Crickets Sing

Prologue: The Crickets’ Song
Last night while I was relaxing and watching T.V., I heard crickets’ sounds – or was it one cricket - singing his delightful and confident chirp. The night was a gorgeous, hot and humid August night and all the windows were open. As I sat and pondered, I kept hearing the distinct, melodic tune.
“That sounds like it’s coming from inside the house.”
I got up and began my search for the little musician. I followed the song, like the Pied Piper, to the front door. Carefully I looked behind the opened door.
There he was – black, shiny and very scared. The music stopped – the wonderful solo that I had enjoyed was silent.
He was suddenly hiding in the corner alone and, no doubt, worried and insecure about my unexpected presence. It struck me as sad.
He hopped around in the corner trying to escape this hostile ordeal. He was alone and vulnerable, hopelessly trying to make his way out of a dreadful situation. He was a picture of me. I couldn’t help but think about all those threatening times that life came crashing down on me, those feelings of panic and despair, darkness, feeling alone, confused and hopeless when I tried to hide in a corner.
This cricket was helpless, at the mercy of my decision to save or kill his life. This precious critter who gave me so much melody stopped singing. He needed some real help. He knew that he could have easily been stomped, squished, destroyed and trashed - flushed down the toilet. And without someone with a caring heart who understood the value of this musician, that fate was the most likely outcome.
I got a broom and gently helped him out the door, back into his freedom, peace and safety - his natural world, the place where he belonged. His crisis had ended safely, just as mine had so many times before and I felt good about enabling a creature to go back and do what he was supposed to do – sing for me.
After this adventure, I knew it was time for me to share my story of my faithful Father, Rescuer, Savior – the One who saved me from my sins at the cross of Calvary so many years ago and Who so lovingly saved me from many threatening trials in my life. The One Who helped me deal with all my fears, anxieties and insecurities. I titled my book: God Didn’t Have to Make the Crickets Sing because it is true. God could have designed each of our nights to be still, dark and quiet.
Now I love to hear the crickets sing at night. It is such a lovely source of peace and comfort for me to hear their melody trilling through the windows in many amazing crescendos. The songs penetrate the house, the yard, the nighttime as perfect harmony travels for enjoyment tickling the ears of anyone who will listen. It begins at dusk and carries on regardless of the heat, humidity or the mood I am in – singing to me:
“All is well.”
“This is for you.”
“I know that you are there, Gail
“You are not alone.”.”
“Gail, you are precious to me.”
“I understand.”
“Gail, I love you.”
“I have my crickets singing just for you.”
And I am left with a spiritual sense of peace and wonder - a beautiful reassurance of my Heavenly Father’s intimate love and giving to all his creation and to me.
What would it be like if the crickets didn’t sing at night? Well, I suppose we wouldn’t know any differently. You don’t know what you don’t have, but the richness of this blessing is missed by most and enjoyed by few as God expresses His glory and how far He will go to love us. These wonderful creatures have entertained me for years as I lie in bed at night listening and wondering about the fears and vulnerabilities that have faced my life. But I didn’t always hear them.
As I got a broom and gently helped this cricket back outside to his world of freedom, safety and familiarity, he was going back to his natural home. I was reminded that this is not my true home and sometimes God has to get a broom to gently get me out of a scrape and back onto my path in His loving arms of protection and safety – heading towards my natural home with Him.