Butterfly Time And Faith In The Pause
He called to me, “Come quick! Come and see the butterflies!” I splashed through the creek, ankle-deep in icy mountain water. In a headlong rush to enjoy the moment I disturbed the butterflies. They alighted in a flurry, except one. It dropped right into the water. Remorse flooded through me. Ever so gently, I lifted the fragile, struggling creature out of the water and back to the rock. Wet wings rendered it helpless. It rested, perhaps fighting an urgent need to flutter on with its friends. It took pause.
“The butterfly counts not months, but moments and has time enough.”
Warm sunshine worked its magic. Wings stretched and fluttered. Eventually the butterfly took off and landed on rock across the stream. Alone. The others had traveled on, perhaps thinking their comrade had surely perished in the stream.
The solitary creature sat on the rock for the next half hour or so. And then a beautiful thing happened.
A second butterfly appeared. It surveyed the area near the stream, fluttered around the rocks, then took off again — landing beside the near-drowning victim.
It was as if they clutched each other in a butterfly embrace.
“There you are!” the movements seemed to say. Or perhaps, “I knew you would find me!” The butterflies fluttered away, together.
Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. – Luke 12:7
Perhaps the art of the pause is bound up in faith. Faith that you are not alone, faith that you have help along the way. It takes only a tiny bit of faith, you know — the size of a mustard seed. Pause … for peace (of mind, body and soul). And know that you will always, always be found. You are never alone.
Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. – Deuteronomy 31:6