Lady-Bugs and Finding my Way Home

I cannot help it.  I wasn't raised in a home where my brother and I were encouraged to look for something special or miraculous everyday.  I was not born to parents who particularly viewed the world with a sunshiny perspective.  There were no mentions of "rainbows and butterflies", or pretty little platitudes about how blessed we were to have a nice home to live in, with food on the table and clothes on our backs.  There was no talk of God, or a Higher Power, or guardian angels who watched over us guiding us like a loving parent.  There was no mention of prayer except for the couple of days a year when we made it to synagogue, and then it almost confused me.  As a matter of fact, it was not until my dear brother died, six months ago at the young age of forty-one, that I found out that my mother honestly, truly and without hesitation doubts the existence of God at all.
But as a child, I loved Lady-bugs.  I spent many a summer's day gingerly picking them up so that they could explore the surface of my skin, as I patiently rotated my hand in one direction to the next, counting their spots as they crawled.  If I found one in a precarious position or in the swimming pool, I would gently move it to a safer place while speaking to it in a small, quiet voice.  I discovered, at a very young age with very little assistance from anyone else, that yes indeed, Debra, there is a Guiding Force in the universe, and to me, that Force was God.  I couldn't help it.  The Lady-bugs were too perfect to have been created by accident.  Something deep within my soul just knew that.
When our angels were born, Mark and I knew that they needed to grow up in a world where God was a part of the family.  We sent them all to religious school, reinforced what they learned there at home and had them each become a Bat-Mitzvah.  I answered any questions that came up about my beliefs from a very young age, and reminded them that God is accessible.  I wanted them to understand that something as tiny as a Lady-bug or even smaller, like the microscopic aphids that the Lady-bugs feast on, were proof enough that there is a God.  

And so, they grew up knowing, even though I only grew up with the feeling that I wasn't alone.  The feeling that somehow, God was in the Lady-bug.
Watching my littlest angel carefully visit with this Lady-bug, yesterday, reminded me of how crucial it is to understand.  Her fascination and wonderment while examining this tiny creature reminded me that no matter how seemingly insignificant something might seem, it can make all of the difference between believing that it is all meant to be, or deciding that it is all a haphazard accident thrown together by chaos.  The look on AD4's face says that she loves Lady-bugs, too.  It brings me peace to know that my angels don't have to figure it out on their own.  They all know what Mark and I believe.  They can appreciate the Lady-bug as one of God's miracles.

There are so many paths which can lead to God.  May you find the one that brings you the knowledge and the peace to believe that you are not alone.  May you find your way to God in the simplest of miracles.  There are so many...