October 18 – “Butterfly no more”

Chris was watering the grass this morning, so I went out to check on her.  I also wanted to check on the grass.  If she was watering, then I would have to mowing before too much longer.  She asked if I had seen the butterfly.  That instantly jogged my memory banks.  See, I had indeed seen a butterfly when I went out to get the paper mush earlier.  My head whipped around to where it had been then.  And it was gone.  I scanned the driveway, and there, on the other side of the car, was the same butterfly.  Sadly, it was not moving.  I bent down to check it out, and it fluttered just a bit.  I noticed that one of its wings was clearly damaged, possibly the result of a run in with a mildly hungry avian that just wanted a bit of a snack.     Encouraged by the movement, I picked it up and gave it a gentle toss – a jump start to flying away.  Not successful.  It gave it everything it had, but just couldn't remain aloft.  Chris said to at least put it in the shade, so I bent down once again and gently picked it up.  This time it flapped like crazy, panicking in the hands of the evil giant.  I barely managed to get it to the grass – and the shade – before it flopped out of my grasp and tumbled to the ground in a free fall that reminded me of most of the paper airplanes I have ever made in my life.  Once down, it was determined not to be counted out, though.  It flipped and flapped and inched along until it made a way out of the grass and onto the driveway once again.  Interesting choice of a final resting place.  For now it lay right where the hungry birds and curious cats could find it most easily.     Made me consider that the only way I could communicate with that tiny winged creature would be for me to become a tiny winged creature myself.  Then, with all the vast knowledge at my disposal as a giant of the wild, I could simply lead it to where it could be safe.  I could encourage it to stay in the safe place.  Maybe I could even show it ways to stabilize the wing so it could once again fly from flower to flower.     OK.  I couldn't help myself.  I just now went back outside to see if it was still around.  I knew I couldn't do anything about it.  I just wanted to know.  I didn't see it anywhere.  But strangely enough, just as I opened the front door, another butterfly, this one much more colorful with orange and yellow and black (a real Fall treat, right?), flew right past my face, bringing me to a stop.   It fluttered around and around Chris' rose bush and finally resumed its flight on to the next yard, the next flower.     I know there are tons of spiritual applications involved in this little adventure.  I got it.  Again.   Philippians 2:6-8 says, "Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.  And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death — even death on a cross!"   Father, thanks for becoming a butterfly and showing me how the right way.  Amen.