On the coldest day of last week when it was fifteen degrees below zero with a twenty seven below wind chill, I noticed something quite unusual. Out of the corner of my eye, crawling toward the ceiling,up the gold painted wall of our family room, was-believe it or not- a box elder bug. There it was, this harbinger of late summer, black and very visible against the wall. My heart softened toward it. What a survivor! Where had it been hiding? What had it been eating? How long do these bugs live anyway?

I got distracted and hadn’t thought much more about this tiny, valiant insect. And then last night we were watching television in another room of the house when my husband pointed to the bug crawling its way across the floor. I watched it as it made its way slowly, slowly through the pile of the carpet. What did it feel like to its tiny,probably exhausted, legs? A mountain? My eyes darted to our cat lounging near the fireplace. Silently, I willed the feline to not notice this small, innocent being that could quickly become a frivolous play thing. Apparently its warmed,furry induced laziness trumped any desire to pounce.

Survivors. They are all around us. I know quite a few, don’t you? I marvel at the human spirit to prevail against sometimes unimaginable odds. We read the story of just such a person on Sunday during worship. In our continued attempt to rekindle the fire of the scripture stories that have shaped us, we read the life journey of Moses as chronicled in the book of Exodus. This unlikely man, chosen by God for great work, came up against obstacle after obstacle as he led the Hebrew people through the wilderness. He endured plagues and the abuse of complaining people. He overcame his weak voice to receive and proclaim the commandments that were given as a covenant between God and the people. He walked and climbed and eventually received bread from heaven. Moses was a survivor.

In many ways the story of Moses is our story. Though not as dramatic as forty years in the wilderness, many people continue to get back in the game after multiple failures. Somehow the hope that glimmers deep within is fanned into a fire once again and they step out on the road with renewed spirit. I send my prayers out to these survivors today. Those who have received bad news yet again. Those who have searched for jobs without finding a fit. Those who feel as if they are pursued by armies behind as they approach the Red Sea and cannot see the way opening to the next step in their lives. Those who feel the fire within dying away. May each, like Moses, find renewal beyond any thing they had hoped that might lift them once again to a continued walk toward some distant Promised Land.

Someplace in our house a box elder bug is experiencing a lease on life that seems remarkable. May it be so for all of us.