So for months I have been hearing about the 13 year cicada invasion in Nashville. I kept hoping that they were wrong. Just like they were wrong about Y2K. You see, I hate bugs. I mean, really hate them. Unfortunately, they were not wrong this time. The cicada invasion of 2011 has arrived in full force. And noone told us when we bought this house 6 years ago that our yard was the Mecca of all things cicada. I drive all around Nashville and don't see one chirpy, creepy thing and then pull into my driveway and see thousands. Yes, thousands. So, I've been thinking. God was trying to tell Pharaoh something when he sent the locust plague to Egypt. Maybe he's trying to tell me something? Part of me is being funny but then there is a part of me that might really believe it. Cause this whole yucky bug thing that happens every 13 years has got me thinking. There are not many things that come around once every 13 years that you will never forget. People that were living in Nashville in 1998 still have cicada stories. They did not forget where they were, who there were with and the stories that went along with them.

I hear someone whispering....don't forget, Misty. Don't forget. Remember. These chirpy creatures are waking me up from the mediocrity of my everyday, ordinary life. They are making me more aware of not only now but also what is to come. Where will I be in 2024? My daughter will be 18 and my son will be almost 15. I am sure that both BG & I will remember these days and have stories to tell. These days will never be returned. I can't get them back- cicadas and all. Can I learn to accept the nasty along with the beautiful? And live in it. Live. If it takes a swarm of chirpy, nasty, shell laying bugs to wake me up from my comfortable slumber- so be it.

I want to remember these days with my 5 year old and almost 2 year old. The next time I see these cicadas, they will be no longer be looking to me for shelter.

Shelter us, O God, under your wings. And, help us to live and remember.