Notes About Frogs

Signs, synchronicities, and something bigger.

One night last week I had a dream about a frog. It was sort of one of those waking dreams where you’re not sure if you’ve fallen asleep yet but the images you’re seeing don’t make sense. It was only a few seconds, a big frog face just staring at me with a half smile. Then there was a voice, “Google the spiritual meaning of frogs.” Was this the voice of God? My mom? Honestly, since her passing nearly two years ago the line between the two has become rather blurry. Gom? Mod? I digress. Reluctantly, I obliged. I rolled over, squinted my sleepy eyes, and Googled away. I clicked on a few different articles and started reading. Apparently, seeing a frog can be both a good or a bad thing depending on who you ask, though I will say the majority of what I found was quite positive. Some of the associations I found on almost every page were abundance, fertility, transformation, new beginnings, and rebirth.

I need to rewind to earlier in the day to add a little context to this frog thing. I had walked out onto the front porch to have a little swing as the sun was setting, something I do often when the weather is nice. As I walked towards the porch swing I noticed a brownish green little blob right in the center of the seat. I immediately thought it was a frog, I even got out my phone carefully and quietly so as not to disturb it to take a little video. As I got closer I realized it was just a leaf. I picked it up and tossed it off the porch, wondering how it even got there in the first place since there were no trees next to the house and it hadn’t been particularly windy that day. I remember wondering why I immediately thought it was a frog. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen one on the porch here. Needless to say, I forgot about the whole leaf/frog mixup and went about my evening. Then, the dream.

So, as you can imagine, I am now fully convinced that this was no coincidence. Have you ever lost someone close to you? Held someone’s hand as they traveled on to another realm? It changes you. It changes the way you interpret the world around you. It changes the feeling of the sun on your face, the smell of the grass, the colors of the flowers, the sounds of the birds and the bees. It sends you on an endless quest, a quest to prove they are still here.

I’ve always been a “sign” person. Once a psychic in New York stopped me on the street to tell me that my soulmate had a name that started with the letter “J.” I took it as a sign when I met a tall, handsome stranger named John a few weeks later and got swept off my feet for a bit. (Turns out he wasn’t my soulmate, he was the cheating douche from the Cancun 2015 post a few weeks back.) Turns out “J” is the most common letter for a person’s first name to start with, a little hack that sham psyhics use often. This didn’t stop my enthusiasm for little winks from the universe, just my enthusiasm for fortune tellers.

My sisters and I started seeing the number 444 everywhere after our mother passed. She died on December 4th and that was the number that seemed to follow us all around, and still does. We’d text each other at the same time to say we saw 4:44 on the clock or send a video of a license plate stopped in front of us at a red light. In the weeks and months immediately following her death other curious things happened too. I accepted a modeling job for a client in Memphis about a week after her funeral. I wasn’t really in any shape to be in public yet but it was a good gig and I needed the money. Somehow I pulled myself together and started getting ready, I had to do my own hair and makeup which is hard enough even when you’re not buried in grief. I couldn’t even bring myself to shower. I cleaned my armpits with a makeup wipe and added fresh deodorant. Trust me I wasn’t that dirty, I hadn’t eaten or moved in about seven days and had showered at some point during that time at least once. I turned on my curling iron and let it heat up. I stood staring at my face in the mirror and convinced myself that I was a real person. I sectioned out my hair and decided to ask Mom to send me a sign. “I don’t wanna go, I need to know you’re with me.” As I twisted the first strand of hair around the wand I heard a sizzle. I quickly pulled the wand away from my head and blinked a few times to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. There was one single water drop on the curling iron, sizzling away. I didn’t understand, my hair was bone dry. I quickly looked up assuming there was a leak in the ceiling…nothing. I just stood there staring for a long time, trying to explain away what I knew in my soul. She was here, she was right here.

These things happen all the time now, but she’s always evolving. For a while this summer it was feathers, at one point last winter it was groups of four deer together (one night during the “deer sign period” I came home late one night and four deer were standing in my driveway-I’d never seen a deer on my street and haven’t since), and now…it’s frogs. I don’t try to understand her methods, I just try to receive the message.

Last night I had one of the worst emotional breakdowns I’ve had in a while. Following along with the news over the last week has left me feeling heartbroken and scared. I was feeling so helpless, so useless, wondering how the world has gotten to this place and if it would ever get better. The collective grief was triggering the Mom grief. Watching all the suffering and loss and heartbreak was bringing up my own. I sat on the edge of my bed and started praying. Naturally, my prayers sort of slipped into a conversation with my mom. This happens all the time. One minute I’m talking to God, the next I’m talking to her. I don’t claim to understand my methods I just go with it. Through my tears I asked her for something I hadn’t in a while-a sign. “Please send me a sign Mom, something I know without a doubt is from you, let me know you are with me, let me know it’s gonna be ok.” I felt better after this praying/talking exercise (I usually do) and went to sleep.

This morning I was doing some work outside and and had been coming in and out of the garage for tools, a bucket, a rag, etc. I couldn’t seem to find the bucket I was looking for, hadn’t I just seen it yesterday? I stood staring at the shelf it had been on before as if I could will it to appear, still nothing. I turned to walk away and something caught my eye, just off to my left. Something moved. I did a double take. I walked a little closer, and a little closer. Hop, hop, hop. No. It couldn’t be. Could it? I wiped my eyes as I bent down for a better look. It was. The little amphibian miracle stood very still so I could get a good look at him. “Hi little guy…hi Mom.” I smiled, she had sent my sign, the one I would know was from her, the one she’d been setting up for a week now. She’s good like that.

So what does it all mean? I don’t know. I think it’s a reminder that all we have to do sometimes is ask for help. Sometimes, especially when it feels impossible, we need to believe in something bigger than us. I hope that it means that someone is looking out for me. I hope that it’s my mom. My understanding of God has shifted and morphed and flowed along with me through life. I find it in the darkest of times and the most joyous of times. I find peace in the idea that there’s so much more to life than what I can see. Know that when I say “God,” it is not an accusation, it is not a judgement, not a call to action, not a soapbox. It’s just what I call my Knowing as Glennon Doyle coined it. It is the source of my greatest hope, the name I have chosen for my origin and my destination. You may call yours love, or intuition, or science, or mother, or tree. I will not be offended or worried for you or secretly untrusting of you or tell you that you are wrong. I only hope you will call it something. Life is hard without something. Something will be there either way. Something will love you at your most unlovable. Something will carry you when another step is out of the question. Something will whisper to you, “Now,” when it is time to start, or leave, or offer, or wait. Something will heal this world…it has to.