The Wall Brown Butterfly - this one was drawn by Alexandra Jones of the UK.
Could there be a more common, ordinary flying bug than the wall brown butterfly, other than maybe the common blowfly? I was blessed, absolutely blessed to the core of my soul today when I was greeted by one today. You know how it is that you are there, you see it, you know it exists, you pass it, you never give it notice, and then after praying about your life purpose, and what it is that you're suppose to do God just sends the exact answer...and it happens to be what you've seen, what you've known, what you've passed, but never noticed? (That was a really long sentence!)
Well there I was today, outside looking at the pond. I thought about how the geese on that pond will show up and be seen. When they are not on the pond they are being seen elsewhere and the thought occurred to me that they are being seen where they are most needed at the time that they are most needed - when they are needed. They travel and they go here and there, but they are always seen and for the most part everyone that does partake of their beauty is blessed - - but what about me? Am I being seen the way I'm suppose to be seen in order to be the best blessing I can be to someone, or to God? Or am I just sitting around waiting? I've told God a number of times that I will go where He wants me, I will say what He directs, and I will do what He asks...and I sealed it in a book, a journal. I wrote out my promise to an all-knowing, Almighty God.
The second I closed the book I was truly visited. I am 46 years old and a butterfly has never landed on my arm before with such awareness. I noticed immediately that she was beaten. She had been hurt, she was battered, but altogether so very beautiful. Her color, though very very ordinary was a perfect segway between an Indian Summer and a glorious new promise of autumn. She was a common and ordinary flying bug - or was she? I had never in all of my life noted the ribs on the antenna of a butterfly, but clearly saw hers. I even saw the tiny tiny tiny bumps on her extremely small tongue, if that's what it is that curls and unravels to taste me. I watched her. I looked at her, and I began to cry - I don't know why exactly, but maybe it was because she was hurt - she was obviously tired - she used my arm for rest, and as her arms or wings slowly unfurled I saw a beautiful set of "eyes" on them. They winked with each flap, slowly opening and closing - and I cried even more.
When she had been revived she left me - but she will never actually leave me. I realized that we are all very ordinary but all so very beautiful. We are often tired, but there is someone there, God's person perhaps that we can land on, lean on, rest and be with. We can say thank you with our eyes or our wings - and as the little creature (creation) flew away I thanked her Maker and mine for our little encounter - I will go and I will say and I will do exactly what I'm told to do, and if my wings get beaten, if I get tired there will be someone there to help me. This is my promise, this is my security.
Thank you Jesus for it. Thank you. Let it be.
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